The Graveyard Games
by Alexandyne
Summary: [have a little faith and click the title.] "Your mother? She was the girl on fire. But coal does another thing; under pressure, it turns into a diamond." I looked up at him in surprise, and the only thing on his face was a smile, despite the turbulence of the arena around us. And then my heart did the unforgivable; I fell in love with the man I had to kill.
1. Chapter 1

Prologue:

In a place where shadows grow like trees and fire dots the mountainside like flowers, citizens of the Capitol have made fortresses of melted stone. They were the last survivors of Panem. They were not only from the Capitol itself, but Districts 1 and 2... and they hated nothing more than a little girl with a golden pin.

There were as many of them now as there once were in the Capitol. In fury, and in spite, they decided that the Hunger Games are not over. They kidnap the children of the Districts every year and throw them into a new Hunger Games, just to remind the Rebels that the Capitol isn't gone. They make their own little Hunger Games, in the graveyard of what used to be North America.

Rosa was only ten when they arose for the first time and declared war on the new inhabitants of the capitol. She was eleven when they seized the capitol back and by the time she is fifteen, they have beaten the districts back down, killing everyone who stands in their way. They are in full power now, all over again.

And they want revenge.

The new president grinned savagely into the cameras. His image was spitting out onto every wall in Panem, and he seemed to glow with power and hatred.

"You thought you could overpower us," he sneered. He straightened his suit, and readjusted the rose pinned to his pocket. The rose was white with splatters of red on it. No one wanted to think about the red. "You thought you could OVERCOME us, did you? For twenty-five years, we have lain in wait. And now, you know you can never defeat us." He paused, and then he bares his teeth in a cruel twisted mockery of a smile.

They knew what this was. This broadcast meant they had finally lost. And as an overwhelming blossom of defeat settled over the people in Panem, the new president continued. "Welcome to the new days. As there was before, there is a game. But this is a new game this year. Welcome to the Graveyard Games, ladies and gentlemen. Each district now gets to send us two little girls, and two little boys. Any child of the leading rebels based on rank will have up to one hundred times more slips than those not." He grinned again, and this time Katniss felt as though he was looking right at her. She couldn't help it. She turned her face into Peeta's shirt, and cried. Rosa and Ash were out in the woods today. Rosa was teaching him how to make a bow.

"It's OK," Peeta whispered into her hair. "It'll be OK."

Chapter 1:

I rolled my shoulders, popping them tiredly, and looked upwards into the trees. Finally, I spotted a good branch. About five feet long, straight, and just over an inch thick. I pointed it out to Ash. He grinned a toothy grin, and scrambled fifteen feet up in to the tree. He took out a knife and started hitting the branch with it. I rolled my eyes. He was only twelve, but you'd think the boy would know how to use a knife...

"Ash, try using the serrated end," I said calmly. He looked at it, then grinned again and used the two inches of knife closest to the hilt, sawing away at the branch. It fell down from the tree as I sidestepped lightly out of it's way. He jumped out of the tree in what he was intending to be a graceful leap, but ended up doing more of a flailing-fall-landing-on-his-feet. I smirked at him, and he just grinned back completely unperturbed.

A huge siren picked up. My head snapped back over to where the fence was, built up to keep the animals out but with a gate to let us in either way.

The siren is five years old, ever since the war picked back up. Any time anything dangerous was near, or an important announcement was being made, it went off. I gnawed on my lip, but considering the lack of people running around screaming I decided it was just an announcement; Mom would tell us when we got back. Ash tilted his head, shrugged then looked back at me.

"Now what?" he asked.

"Cut it off where it forks, so you just have the straight part," I said. He did so. "Now trim off all the branches, and peel away the bark. While you do that, I'm gonna go ask what's going on with the whole siren thing." I made my way up the little slope to the gate, and pushed my way through. I walked across the meadow, over to where the houses began in the poorer side of town. I knocked on a door, and a girl I knew from school answered.

"Hi, Belle," I said. "What's up with the siren? What's the announcement?" I noticed her face was splotchy, and the blonde curls framing her face were damp just ever so slightly. Wet streaks went down her cheeks, and her brown eyes watched me, sad, and red, and puffy. She'd been crying. "What's wrong?" I asked, hugging her on reflex.

"Rosa," she cried into my shoulder. "They did it." I pulled back and looked at her face again. Then with a sickening lurch in my stomach, I knew what she meant. The people from the capitol had won. We had lost. I hugged her again. "They're doing the Hunger Games again," she sobbed. "Except- except- they're worse."

As soon as those words were out of her mouth, I noticed a hiss in the air. The hiss of a breaking train, one of the nice bullet trains from the capitol. What had seemed luxurious and amazing to me in my childhood looked like a serpent taking up the track now, with glowing red eyes reflecting off the metal in front of it. The doors opened with a hiss, and men in blue outfits poured out of the door and into the streets. They banged into houses, and screams started coming.

"ASH!" I screamed, letting go of Belle. I ran for the meadow, looking over my shoulder at her. "Hide, Belle!" I turned back and poured on more speed, barrelling through the gate and down the hill. "ASH!" I screamed. He looked up, startled, only halfway done shaving the bark off of his would-be bow.

"Ro-" he got cut off as I slammed into him and pushed him behind a tree.

"Capitol won," I hissed in his ear. "They're back. Everything's going back to that nightmare Dad talks about." His eyes widened in horror. Mom had told us about the Hunger Games, and when she couldn't speak anymore, Dad did. I hugged Ash tightly to my chest, listening to the sound of gunfire that started up inside the fence. I heard footsteps and metal against metal as they forced their way through the gate. I prayed they wouldn't see us. My prayers went unanswered – they did.

They went down the path, waving their guns around like deranged monkeys. They spotted us.

They peeled Ash out of my arms, and despite my screams and protests, dragged us up the path and inside the fence. They shut and locked the gate, and hooked on a weird device that made the fence hum.

I remembered Mom telling us about sneaking out in the woods when she was younger, with a man we'd never met. How occasionally, the fence would hum with electricity. I took a sharp inward breath.

"Where do you live?" One of the men in blue snarled in my ear. I clamped my mouth shut. They twisted Ash's arm behind his back, and with a yelp he told him where we live.

"Victor's Circle!" he gasped out. They grinned devilishly, and let go of his arm. They pushed us up the street, through the square, back to the Victor's circle. I noticed an eerie silence as the last of the shots are fired. I saw people looking in terror out the windows as the peace keepers push us up to our house. I saw dead men in the street, holding guns and bows and arrows as though they had thought they could defend against the men in the blue. Their vacant expressions stared upwards, their eyes like pools reflecting the sky. Nothing but empty blue.

Mom was waiting at the door. I ran to her and wrapped my arms around her, Ash on her other side hugging Dad as he glared over our heads at the men in blue. I hadn't noticed until that minute how much grey was in his hair, and how old he was beginning to look. They pulled us into the house, and quietly locked the door behind us.

Then, the worst that can happen happened.

Mom cried.

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><p><strong>So, I know alot of you guys will lose interest and leave right here at this chapter, and I have a request... well, obviously firstly that you don't leave, but mostly that you let me know why. I mean, it's just how it always works, that's how every story stats go, most people read through and go "awesome!", but a few people stop. So, I would like you to leave me a review saying why, so I could try to make it better. Thanks!<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

"Members of District 12," the voice emanated from the TV. I didn't bother looking at the screen, I just kept my hands folded behind my head. I kept my eyes locked on the ceiling above, as though that would keep me from knowing what was going to happen, but I was listening closely to every word that came out of the speakers.

"A year has passed as of today since the glorious victory of the capitol over rebel troops, and so we enter the third great era of the capitol," the voice continued, despite my wishes that it would stop. "In remembrance of the first era, from when thirteen districts existed..." peaceful music took over, and I could only assume that video clips/pictures occupied the screen. "And the second era, after the first rebellion was crushed. The era of the Hunger games..." dramatic music took over this time, and I figured there were more pictures. "And now, the third era. The era of the Graveyard Games.

"After a month of grieving for our fallen soldiers has passed, President Pura has decided we need something light-hearted to begin growing again as a nation, and come back together as a people. So the Graveyard Games are to begin.

"As it is the first annual Graveyard Games, I'm sure you are all wondering how this is to be different from the Hunger Games. The answer is: they aren't all that different. The rules are simple. From each of the thirteen districts, two boys and two girls ages twelve through eighteen will be called forth as tribute. They will be placed into an arena to fight to the death, and the victor will bring honor and glory to their district. The district to win will only have to submit three tributes the following year, with each district having a potential minimum of two candidates in the future. For example, if a boy from district two wins this year, next year district two will only send one boy and two girls. If the following year a boy from district two wins again, then one boy and one girl will go forwards the following year.

"As some of the older members in the audience may remember, the Hunger games allowed for an individual to place their name into the balls extra times for more food later in the year. This will not be permitted. The number of times each name goes in will be directly proportional to their age in most cases, as was last year.

"The third and final change is this: those who are within age and are immediately related to someone involved in the rebellion will have their name put in additional times. The numbers are as follows: the children of the Mockingjay will have their names put in one hundred times the original number. Children of those in second command will be in twenty times for every one, and then the children of anyone else who took part will have it in five times."

I bolted upright in my seat then, my eyes training in on the television. The man who was talking had a ridiculous white mustache and kept talking as though he had said nothing of consequence.

"The victors still get immunity from the games. Happy Graveyard Games, and may the odds be _ever_ in your favor."

The screen winked and turned black. I stared at it numbly, just like everyone else in the room just then.

500 times. My name would be in there 500 times. Ash would be in there 100 times. Baby Blue wouldn't be in there at all because she was only three. She sat in Mom's lap, looking at the screen with her lips trembling.

"Mommy," she said, tugging Mom's sleeve insistently. "People go to sleep in the Hunger Games." When Mom didn't answer promptly, Blue added earnestly, "For good." Mom nodded weakly. "How many people don't go to sleep?"

Mom hesitated. "One," she breathed, not making eye contact with anyone but glancing at Ash's and my feet.

Blue looked thoughtful for a minute. "How many are there?"

"This year... there will be fifty-two," Mom said, hugging Blue closer to her. Blue's lips trembled harder, and she looked so young and innocent then – her eyes were wide and Dad's shade of blue, with mousy brown curls.

"Mom," I said slowly, "I want you to teach me to better use a bow." She looked at me with sad grey eyes that matched a tired grey streak going through her hair, making her seem older than her forty eight years. She knew as well as I that it was nearly certain I was going. There would be maybe 1000 names in that ball, perhaps less... District 12 wasn't that big yet. And I was half of those names. And they were drawing names _twice. _So if they didn't draw me at first, they were certainly going to draw my name second.

"You know how to use it very well," she said, giving me a sad smile. "You're almost as good as I was at your age... _almost. _But I can show you how to throw knives. I don't know how much time we have until the reaping, but..." she got to her feet and beckoned me up from the couch, and after a moments pause she looked back at Ash. His chances weren't as high, but there was a decent chance he'd be going too. About one in three I'd say... maybe closer to three tenths. She beckoned for him to come too, and then paused once more to pick up Baby Blue. I noticed how big she was getting, and wondered if I would be around long enough to start calling her Blue Bell or if I would be dead by the time her fourth birthday rolled around. It was pretty probable that both Ash and I were going to the games...

And the thing about the games is that only one comes back.

Haymitch pushed through the door then, a bottle in one hand and a wild look in his eyes. He dropped the bottle, and it exploded when it hit the floor, sending little shards of glass flying across the entryway. He staggered to me and gripped my shoulders.

"Katniss," he said, his breath foul with liquor. "The Quarter Quell. They're redoing it." I started... did he just call me by my mother's name?

"No," I said. "Rosa."

He squinted at me, and his eyes began to clear slightly. "Rosa..."

"Haymitch, are you alright?" I asked, removing his hands finger by finger from my shoulders.

"The Hunger Games," he said, hugging me. He was old now, starting into his 70s. "You and your brother. Stay alive," he said. "Don't let them turn you on each other." He pulled back, and with a lopsided grin at Katniss, sadness in his eyes, he directed a question at her. "You do realize what this means?"

"That my kids are in danger? The precise danger that I swore I would never put kids into?" she asked, anger lighting her face.

"No, sweetheart," he said, grinning with yellowed teeth. "They'll be needing mentors." My mom's mouth opened slightly, and she stared at him, slowly going through what he had said.

"Ah," she said slowly. "Now, I am going to teach my kids how to fight."

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," he said, squinting. "They've been shootin' anyone with a weapon right on sight."

Mom's breath hissed between her teeth with irritation. Mom looked out the windows, watching the men in blue posting signs around the whole district. "Peacekeepers," she muttered. "Never thought I'd see them again."

One of them stapled a sign on the door. I opened the door and examined the sign. In huge, happy letters, it said:

"__**REAPING, TOMORROW!**__

__**COME ENJOY THE FESTIVITIES!**__

__**FOUR LUCKY CHILDREN FROM OUR DISTRICT WILL HAVE THE HONOUR OF PARTICIPATING**__

__**IN THE FIRST GRAVEYARD GAMES."**__

_In smaller font below, it continued:_

**"_**(anyone who is not present will be publicly executed)"**_**

I grimaced in disgust. It was such a peppy, colorful sign. I ripped it off the door, balled it up, and tossed it into the primrose bushes.

I clenched my fists. "Would they really execute two of the people they want to send to the games?" I asked, turning to Haymitch. He grinned at me, showing off his uneven teeth.

"Course they would, sweetie. All they really want is for you two to be dead." I grimaced openly, and made my way back into the house, slamming the door behind me.

"Well, they can't stop us from making dinner," Mom said, winking at me. "Let me show you how to get a knife deep into a big chunk of meat." I smirked, and we went into the kitchen.

After an hour of throwing knives at a leg of deer, I began hitting it ridiculously well. I didn't miss once, and I only accidentally hit it with the hilt twice. Of course it wasn't the first time I'd thrown knives, Mom would never have allowed that... You always have to know how to protect yourself, she said. And she was right, naturally. But this was the first time my life depended on it.

By the end, I was getting really good. The meat was a bloody pulp by that point, though, so we cut it up and put it on sticks and cooked it over the fire in the fireplace. We dipped it into a sauce we found, called Teriaki (the capitol used to make it) and ate it. It was amazing.

Dad sat, as ever, painting. He wouldn't show any of us what he was painting until he was done. After dinner was over, Mom ushered us into our rooms, saying tomorrow was going to be a "big, big, big day."

I lay in my bed, but I didn't sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Darkness slowly faded into a grayed misty color, then to a golden light that streamed through the windows. I cursed it for it's cheerfulness. Was it looking forward to me dying? Because I would surely be dead before the month was through. Hope had left me the night before.

I pulled myself out of bed, and looked through my closet. All the beautiful dresses that Mom had gotten me when I went through a girly phase a few years earlier, from what had been the capitol. I grimaced. I wanted nothing to do with any of them. I tip-toed out of my room, and into my mother's. I went through her closet until I found a pretty, worn blue dress. She had told me she wore it to her own reaping. I took it back to my room, and slid into it. It was a bit small for me; I had more meat to me than she had had, but I still fit. It had been her mother's before her, and she wasn't as small as Mom had been at that time. I went downstairs and sat at the kitchen table, running my fingers down my bow.

It had been one of Mom's, one her father had made. She had wanted me to have it. I wondered if Baby Blue would use it when she grew older. __No, stop that Rosa. You can do this. You can win.__

I went into the kitchen, and got something simple to eat; grits. I put it on the table and started up the fire. I put a thing of water over the fire to boil.

"Rosa," my father said behind me. I started. i hadn't heard him come up to me. I smiled, and gestured to the little flames. He nodded. Then, suddenly, he wrapped his arms around me. "You still might yet not go," he whispered into my hair.

"I might not," I said, biting back the response that even if my name wasn't drawn the first time, it surely would be drawn the second time. My name was in there 500 times, and District 12 wasn't too big, yet.

"Happy Hunger Games," Mom muttered sarcastically, walking into the room.

"Graveyard Games," Dad corrected gently, wrapping his arms around her.

"You know it's the Hunger Games. Don't even bother," she grumbled. Ash stumbled down the stairs, wiping sleep from his eyes. I turned back to the fire, and saw the water boiling. I grabbed a stray apron laying by the fire pit, and wrapped it around my hand before grabbing the kettle out of the fire. I poured water into my bowl of grits, and everybody nodded and walked over to the kitchen. As they came back in with their own bowls, I poured them full of water then placed the kettle on the stone hearth. I ate my grit's plain that day. I didn't have the stomach for anything else.

I took a deep breath as I finished, and put my bowl in the sink. I felt a weird numbness creeping up through my body, numbing all my emotions. I looked briefly at the clock, wondering when the reaping would be. Mom said something about the old reapings being at noon. It was only an agony waiting, knowing someone I knew and loved would be going, maybe even with me, and not all of us would make it back.

At ten, the men and blue came through the streets yelling for all the eligible children to come out and go to the square with them. Ash and I walked out and we were immediately surrounded by a wall of blue, and we marched to the square. We were arranged facing a platform. Standing there was a man that was no more than a hands-width wide, but had a humongous beer gut like he was pregnant. He had a lopsided black mustache and a black hat and tufts of graying black hair to either side of his head. His eyes were weird and beady, and his teeth were horridly crooked.

I couldn't help but wonder what happened to our mayor... but my stomach churned a little so I didn't continue the train of thought.

The guards separated Ash and I, and led him to the right side of the stage in the middle of the square and let me to the left. There were 14 roped off areas, each with a number and letter sewn into cloth and hung on the rope. They led me to the one with the 16F, and I shrugged them off and walked inside with my head high. The only other person there was Belle, sitting on the stone with her knees tucked up under her chin and her arms around her shins. I knelt down beside her, and hugged her. She unwrapped her arms from her legs and hugged me back, and I stood slowly bringing her with me.

"I'm scared, Rosa," she said looking at me. I smiled at her.

"Don't be. The chances you'll be picked are incredibly slim," i said with a forced smile.

"I didn't say I was scared for me," she said quietly, eyes big. My smile flickered, but I managed to hold it. A few more girls began trickling into our age group, all of which I knew. Minutes ticked by. 10:30; 11:02; around 11:45 people began trickling in; parents, aunts, uncles, grandmothers and grandfathers, toddlers and wee babes and children just missing the cut-off by a year.

"Welcome to the first Graveyard Games, 100 years from the first Hunger Games," the man said. "Poetic, isn't it? I am your new mayor." Whispers rushed through the crowd. "Your old mayor... retired," he said with a crooked grin that set my insides bubbling. "Ah... the old saying is ladies first, eh?" he said, and a woman walked onto the stage. Two large men followed behind her each carrying a ball; one pink, one blue. They each had a slightly flattened indent on one side of the balls, and they settled them down on those. The woman reached her hand into the pink ball, and pulled out a single slip of paper.

"Allie Fitswitch," she read. A girl walked, stiff, from the roped off area with a 17 on it. As the lady reached in again, my heart sped up. Was it possible I wouldn't go? She pulled out another ticked of paper. "Primrose Everdeen Malark," she read. My hopes crushed. I knew better than that... sigh. I slid between the other girls in my roped off area, and walked calmly up to the stage. I stood beside Allie, and then the woman walked to the blue ball.

I allowed myself to hope that Ash wouldn't get called. At least then I could win without... I cut off the train of thought. She reached in, and drew out a slip. "Ash Everdeen Malark," she said. The hope was dashed as soon as it began. My heart started racing as I watched my little brother walk up to the stage, his eyes on me. The lady paused and looked back and forth between Ash and I. She reached into the ball and pulled out another slip. "Johnathon Peters," she said, and a boy with black hair from my age walked up onto the stage.

"Oohhhh, we're going to start the new games off with a kick!" the mayor said happily, looking from me to Ash and then back to me. I felt rebellion rise in my chest and on an impulse, I hugged Johnny, and then Allie even though I didn't know her. I glared fiercely at the mayor, and the peace keepers applauded happily, sadistic looks on their faces. The crowd clapped robotic-like. I saw Mom and Dad, and Mom was crying into Dad's shoulder and Baby Blue was watching me with a straight sober face, and sad eyes.

Two peacekeepers came up and led us off the stage quietly and to a building by the train-station. I threw one last look over my shoulder, seeing Baby Blue's head above the crowd, before going through the double doors.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey I'm trying to break my habit of authors notes but if you guys could review that would be super helpful... thanks!**

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><p>I was alone in a very well furnished room, even better furnished than our house in the Victor's Village. My fingers obsessively ran over the furniture as I paced throughout the room. Ash, Johnny, and Allie were all in different rooms from me. After about 15 minutes, Mum and Dad and Baby Blue walked in. Mom's eyes were pink, and her cheeks were pink like she'd rubbed at them trying to scrub away tears. Dad had tear streaks down his face, and he didn't attempt to hide them.<p>

Mom and Dad sat down on the couch, and I sat between them.

"We've already seen Ash," Mom said quietly. Her voice was a little hoarse.

"Don't worry," I said with a little smile. I hugged her. "He'll make it home." I sat back and hugged Dad, too. My words were enough to make Mom start crying again.

"I don't want to lose either of you," she said through silent tears streaking down her face.

"I know, Mom," I said. "Trust me. It'll be OK."

"No it won't," she said, looking at me tearfully. "They won't let us mentor you. They say since there aren't any Graveyard Games victors, then they will have capitol appointed mentors for the first year. They said they won't have any Hunger Games victors mentor because... because there aren't enough of us left."

I looked at her blankly for a moment, taking a minute to comprehend that this is the last time I was going to see my mother. Or my father. Or my little sister.

"Sissy," Baby Blue said, wrapping her arms around me. "Sissy going on vacashun?"

"Yes, Blue," I said, hiding my face in her hair.

"When you come home?" she asked, sitting back crosslegged on my lap, hands on my shoulders, looking me in the eyes.

"I won't be coming home, Blue," I said quietly. In that moment, I was certain. There was no chance I'd come home. Ash would come home, and only one of us could win. I would get him home or I would die trying. She put her hands on my cheeks and said sternly,

"Don't fall asleep." I nodded, hugging her tightly. The Peacekeepers stormed in then, heading for Mom and Blue first. Dad grabbed my shoulder and turned me to look at him.

"Rosa, you know very well you're allowed to take a symbol," Dad said, and I looked at him. He handed me a carved piece of wood, with a Primrose painted on it and a mocking-jay across the top. It was tied to a piece of ribbon, and he tied the ribbon around my neck. I remembered he had been painting yesterday, and realized he had known all along too.

"Thankyou, Dad," I whispered.

"Time's up," they said, shouldering Mom and Dad out of the room. Baby Blue watched me over Mum's shoulder, and then the double doors slammed behind them. I spent a moment there on my own, staring at the doors that covered where Blue's face had been. Soon, the men in blue returned, and led me back to the station. Cameras were everywhere, the whirring sounds filling the air as they followed my footsteps. There was only one door open on the entire length of the train, so I went through that one with as much dignity as I could muster. Ash, Johnny, and Allie were all already there. Aside from them, the room was empty.

The three of them sat around an obscenely large table, none of them next to each other. I sat down just as the train started rolling down the tracks, and we were silent for a long time. The woman from the reaping came in, and I saw her face for the first time. Instantly I hated that face... glassy eyes, hollowed cheeks, caked with make up, fake eyelashes and contacts so that she could pretend her eyes were gold.

"Go freshen up in your cars, you have two hours before dinner," she said, clapping her hands together. I remembered when Mom had told me about her time in the Hunger Games, and her descriptions of Effie. This woman seemed less preppy than Effie, and colder... or at least, than my mental image of Effie. Maybe Effie was like that at first, too. Or maybe all capital women are cookie-cutter.

I didn't go to my room immediately, because I always hated not knowing where I was. It turned out that the doors we entered were the main dining car. Behind the dining car were five more cars linked together tightly so there was never any open air... I supposed they were afraid of the tributes jumping out. One of them was my room, one was Allie's, and one was the capital woman's... the other two were locked.

Doubling back the other way, there was a bar car in front of the dining car, then there were the boys' rooms. Past those, the doors were locked but I think there was just the navigation and engine rooms. I made my way back to my room.

The room was like it stepped out of the stories I was told as a little girl. The room was large and had a broad queen bed that was fluffier than my bed at home, even though it was one of the nicest homes in district thirteen. The walls were huge and I knew that they would adopt scenes if I wanted, but I didn't. Instead I went straight for the bathroom, because Mom and Dad always laughed about those the most.

They were exactly the same. A huge panel of buttons on the side, which blinked at me in the dim lighting. I quickly undressed, but I took care to place Dad's necklace on the counter out of harm's way and climbed inside, seeking out the buttons that would start the water and do all the magical things they had talked about. It was strange in that shower, and suddenly soap was everywhere. It smelled of roses, and then the water was back washing it all away.

Dad talked about when he talked with the interviewer guy... what was his name?... about smelling like roses.

The numbness wore off then. I sat down abruptly on the bottom of the floor, the warm water washing over me in waves and I just stared at the walls. I was going to die. I was really going to die and there was no way out of it and for all of Mom and Dad's stories it was never going to change and I was never going to see them again, because even though Mom and Dad survived their hunger games together there was no way both Ash and I would make it out, much less with Johnny in tow and anyone else who might be there that I knew or...

... anyone else that I knew. My stomach turned then and I realized that anyone might be in those games with us. Maybe Annie and Finnick's son... scratch that, he was too old now. Maybe Beth from district two, who I had played with on Dad's political visits. Maybe... maybe...

My eyes blurred and I couldn't figure out why. After a moment, I realized they were tears.

The shower shut off some time later, and I got to my feet slowly. I opened the door and was blasted with air, sending my hair floating around me and drying me off. My dress was gone, and I rubbed my eyes to make sure they were clear of tears before leaving the bedroom to find clean clothes.

In my car I found drawers and closets filled with disgustingly preppy, clean, capital clothes. How the hell had the capital bounced back so effectively so fast? And HOW were clothes a number one priority?!

After searching for what seemed like ages, I found something I didn't completely hate. A simple blue tank top with broad straps and dark blue ribbons around the hems... a bit more festive than I would have wanted, but it would do. Soon thereafter in a streak of good luck, I found some simple black pants.

There was a knocking at the door then, and the capital woman's voice filtered through the wood, "Supper time, come and eat!" I threw back my head and took a deep breath. I returned to the bathroom and retrieved Dad's necklace, and hung it around my neck.

I left my car and in the corridor that connected the different cars, I bumped into Allie. She looked away from me immediately and said nothing, doing her best to avoid eye contact as we walked in an awkward silence to the dining car. We sat down in the same seats as before on reflex, and we waited. The capital woman came down the corridor from the other side of the dining car with the boys behind her, and she was talking quickly but the boys weren't replying.

She didn't seem to mind, and kept talking anyways. "You know I was just a little girl when the rebels took the capital, so I don't remember the games much. I am just so THRILLED to see the games again! And to have my very own tributes!" she patted Ash's head and I saw a stormy anger ignite in his eyes. It took a lot to make Ash stop laughing, and apparently this capital woman rubbed him in just the wrong direction. He didn't say anything though.

She finally stopped jabbering and looked around at us, annoyed.

"Oh, did you ask a question?" Johnny asked, blinking up at her. She made an angry grumble and sat down heavily.

"I _said... _have you met your mentors yet?"

"Mentors?" Ash asked, sitting more upright in his chair. "I thought we didn't get any mentors this year."

"Not your parents, mister," she said, rolling her eyes. "But capital appointed mentors. I mean, honestly, with the Hunger Games they didn't start out having mentors for everybody did they? At the very least it would take thirteen games to have mentors for each district, wouldn't it? So one by one the capital appointed mentors will be replaced by victors."

"Oh," Ash said, sitting back in his seat again.

"I'm sorry, Aelia," a man's voice came from behind my head. "I'm rather afraid I drifted off. My sincerest apologies. As for Hadriana, she has not been feeling well and will not be joining us for dinner. She will join us for the reaping viewing after, however."

I turned and saw a tall, well-built man with short-cropped dark hair and a neatened beard, wearing a dark blue suit. He had a kind enough face and was less of a capital mess than the capital woman, who I supposed was named Aelia, which made me like him more than her immediately.

"Do not worry, you are here before the food so that is all that matters," Aelia said, straightening her hair. The man sat down between Johnny and I, made sure his cuff-links were straight, and moved the napkin from the set table to his lap.

"I am the mentor for the second-drawn names, which I believe to be Rosa and Johnny," he said, looking from his left to his right and making eye-contact with both of us. We nodded, and I felt a small pang inside... could I not be mentored with Ash?

"_Couldn't I be mentored with Ash?_" he said, looking me in the eye steadily. "That's what you're thinking, right? Well, unfortunately the answer to that is no. The capital is more strict now than it was when your parents played, Rosa."

Before I could respond, men with food appeared, placing it on the table in the first course.

"Um, excuse me," Johnny said slowly. "But... two things, if you will. Firstly, I am about to go to my death, and have less than a two percent chance of winning... I'd like to be called a more mature name than Johnny, so John if you wouldn't mind. Secondly, what is your name?"

"Naevius," he replied. "And as you wish, John." He nodded his head in a sort of semi-bow, and then delicately picked up the smaller of the two forks on the left side of his place setting, and skewered a tiny tomato.

"Now, for the sake of not wasting time," Naevius said after he finished eating his tomato. He tapped his mouth gently with his napkin and then returned it to his lap before continuing, "Do the two of you have any questions? Actually, all four of you may ask questions because Hadriana is not here right now."

There was silence around the table for a few beats, and then Allie raised her hand slowly. "Is it true that only one of us can win? I mean... what about that one Hunger Games where two people won?"

"That will not happen. Plans have been put in place since then, they will just have fans vote for the victor and kill the other," Naevius said, his voice completely smooth and emotionless as he committed at least three of us to death. "Also, you have a less than two percent chance of surviving, as John said so eloquently. In my eyes, this makes each and every one of you an adult, no matter your age..." his eyes flickered to Ash then, "... and because of this I will treat each of you like adults. You do not need to raise your hand to ask me a question, and I will be glad to talk with any of you, even the two who I am not strictly mentoring."

"Is it just like the second Quarter Quell?" John asked, ignoring his salad completely. "Are the rules going to be the same?"

"It's very similar, the rules they announced in the broadcast stand however, and there are four more tributes in the light of the return of district thirteen."

I sat quietly, eating the cheese off of my salad and ignoring the rest of it. It was whisked away and replaced with soup, and a dramatic sort of silence fell over the table.

"Well," Aelia said, looking around the table. "I know that Ash and Rosa are Katniss and Peeta's children, but I really know nothing about the two of you. Tell me about yourself, John."

"Oh, ah..." John said, shuffling uncomfortably in his seat. "I was born in District Seven, but my dad moved us out here when District 12 started coming back. I went to school with Rosa, we're in the same year."

"What does your dad do?"

"He was a butcher, so Katniss always sold her meat to him after the war, and Rosa did too once she was old enough and went hunting with Katniss."

"Mmm, you're on a first name basis with the Mockingjay, how exciting!" Aelia clapped her hands together, and then looked at Allie. "What about you, dear?"

"Oh," Allie said, looking down into her lap. "I was a year ahead of John and Rosa, and I didn't know them. My mum did agriculture in district 11, and moved back here around the same time John's dad did, I guess. The demand for grown crops in District 12 skyrocketed when people did, so she figured she'd take advantage of it."

"Did either of your parents play big roles in the rebellion?" Naevius asked, blowing on a spoonful of soup to cool it down.

"My mum and dad didn't do anything in the war," Allie said, shaking her head. "When the wars got too bad, they went to the backwoods part of district 11, where the war was mildest. With the smoking remains of district 12 to one side and boring old district 10 to the other, no one really fought there..."

"So it was truly bad luck that your name was drawn," Naevius said, with slight sympathy written across his face. "You, John?"

"My dad was a second commanding officer. He was the only one in all of District 12, so my name was in there a hundred times... not so much luck as the capital hates my guts."

"Mmmm," Aelia said, and another silence fell over the table. It stayed that way until the meal was over, and a woman appeared from the corridor in the back of the train.

"So.. that whole... reaping thing," the woman said, who then proceeded to cough into her arm. Aelia nodded, clapped her hands, and turned the TV on.


	5. Chapter 5

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><p>The TV flickered to life and I stared at it, realizing that we were going to see fifty two faces flash across that screen and I was going to be expected to remember all of them. Yeah... psh... right.<p>

The Capitol's anthem came on and Naevius took the opportunity to introduce the new woman to us as Hadriana. She certainly looked ill, very ill for that matter. Her hair looked dead and her skin was pasty and rough, and she had dark rings under her eyes and a nose red from sniffling. Her shoulders were hunched and she couldn't stop shaking, and after Naevius introduced her she promptly sneezed into her elbow.

She sat down in a chair a respectful distance from the rest of us, trying not to get us sick. "I would be the most horrid person alive if I got any one of you sick right before fighting for your life," she sniffled with an apologetic grin. "You should at least have a fair fight."

I gave her a brief smile and then turned my attention back to the television.

After the anthem, the TV cut to the video they had played before the reaping. I supposed they were replaying it for the Capitol citizens' benefit, but I didn't much care. All it did was make me a little bit more angry than I already was. The video transitioned then to a man and a woman sitting behind a desk with a silent video of the capitol's victories playing behind them. They both looked absolutely ridiculous, and made Aelia's weirdness look like a joke.

The man had neon pink hair and eyebrows to match, and he had a very need little goatee that was died the same neon pink as his hair and his eyebrows. He had huge fake eyelashes that looked like they were made out of mockingjay feathers that swooped off the side of his face until they were difficult to see against the background, and he had make-up on to give him cheekbones that he clearly didn't have as he was a bit too portly. He had a bright pink suit with a bright orange dress-shirt and they DEFINITELY clashed.

The woman had ears that came to a point and twitched every now and then like a cat's, and her eyes were obviously altered (surgically or cosmetically, I don't know) to be a green-gold and slit. She had dots drawn on her cheeks to give her the appearance of whiskers, and her clothes were skin-tight and leopard print. She tapped her fingers in rolling patterns along the desk, showing of nails that were thick and pointed like claws, with black tips to match her black hair, which was cut raggedy and short to look more like fur.

"Hello ladies of Panem," the cat-chick said in a voice that sounded like cream.

"And Gentlemen, Kit, don't forget the gentlemen," the pink man said, his voice deep and rich.

"Of course," she nodded. "People of Panem, we are ecstatic to announce we will be the spokespeople for the Graveyard Games this year, and are looking forward to exciting games."

"We are sure the games will start off with a bang, and this year will be even more exciting than any Hunger Games before it," the pink man added. "I am Nero Othoman, and my lovely coworker is Kit Julius."

The screen behind them flashed to the streets of the Capitol, which were filled with an absurd number of people with various colors of hair, make up, dresses, and so forth.

"Tonight in the Capitol is the Graveyard Games kickoff! The party before the party, you might say," the man continued, and the woman nodded along, purring her agreement. "Before the tributes arrive, our glorious President Pura has thrown a party for the sake of the game itself. How exciting!"

I snorted, and I wasn't the only one in the room to do so. While Pura was technically his name, he was known in the districts as President Sangre simply for how much blood he had shed over the past few years. Although this funny pink man would probably lose his head if he said President Sangre...

"But of course, that's not what any of you really want to see," he chuckled, and in the background a gigantic screen over the street party lit up, with Nero and Kit's faces blown up on them. "Are you ready to see this year's tributes?!"

The people in the streets cheered.

"I can't hear you!" Kit said, grinning to reveal sharpened canines.

The people cheered even louder, and they faded the sound of the party out so they could continue talking.

"That's more like it," Kit said. "Now, let's have a quick recap. In these games, children of rebel forces were put in more times than they would be otherwise. Additionally, two children of each gender will have their names put in. Let's take a look at district one..."

The screen transitioned to a slightly shaky film of the streets of District One, which were filled with sobered people and bright clothes. They were more eager than District Twelve had been, but their faces said they were still hesitant. Many of the parents remembered the honor brought to their district by having a victor, but this time they hadn't been illegally training their kids... This time, it was all a level playing field.

"Ladies first," a scrawny little man on the stage said. "Crystal Pierce." A shaky girl about fifteen walked up with snow-white hair and wide, dark eyes. "Dianna Janson." An older girl, maybe seventeen, walked up with her head held high and her shoulders pushed back, although her knees trembled slightly.

"And now for the gentlemen," the man said. "Blaise Donnel." A bulky guy walked up. "Onyx Cardenian." A younger boy walked up.

They zoomed in on the tributes faces after that, which were relatively unremarkable. Some were more confident than others, but they all had a sort of fear in their eyes.

"District Two..."

This district was filled with lights and laughter, liquor was in the streets and people were grinning up at the stage.

"Ladies... Maroon Ison... Thalia Mahija... Gentlemen... Ty Hawthorne... Otaco Mierez..." I squinted at the first named guy. Ty Hawthorne... he looked familiar. It took me half way through District Three to place him, and when I did I just opened my mouth and stared at the screen. He looked almost exactly like that guy from a picture on Mom's desk... Gale, I think his name was. Gale Hawthorne. Was this guy Gale's son?

After that point, tributes went in one ear and out the other... maybe in one eyeball and out the other?

A few stuck, of course. There was a tiny little girl who obviously just barely made the cut off for the age requirement from district five. There was a girl with flaming red hair and dark brown eyes who didn't shake at all when she went up to the stage, and she was from district seven. There was a huge hulk of a guy who just barely was young enough to compete, who stood a head higher than everyone else on the stage from district eight. A curly haired girl who moved like a cat was called up with her identical twin sister from district ten, although her twin didn't move nearly so gracefully.

Eventually, we reached our district. They got half way through the four of us hugging before they abruptly cut off the tape and went to district thirteen.

The very unfortunate thing about district thirteen is that after the rebellion won, almost everyone went to the other districts. The surface of district thirteen was still pretty much impossible to survive, and many people chose the open space of a new home than the underground areas of district thirteen. The few people that stayed were mostly in their twenties and thirties and didn't have any kids, because once they got kids they had a tendency to move to places with more sunshine and schools. The result was that almost all the kids that were there at all were six and under, born after the war started so the movement was restricted. When they filmed the reaping there, only ten children were in the pins with ages on them. And only three of them were girls.

All four of the kids that were called from that district were thirteen or younger. Three of the kids, both boys and one of the girls, were twelve. The other girl was thirteen, but she didn't have much advantage in size on the other three. The four of them hugged tightly on stage and started crying, then the cameras switched back to Nero and Kit.

"It certainly seems like a lot of tributes, doesn't it Kit?" Nero said, turning his chair to look half way at his coworker and half way at the camera.

"It does. One thing's for sure, these games will be like none before. Fifty two kids -"

"Tributes, Kit," Nero corrected stiffly. I sat up, realizing that the cat woman had tripped up. She wasn't supposed to let us look like people.

"Didn't I say tributes?" she asked. "What did I say? Well, none the less, I meant tributes. Fifty two of them, and only one comes out. This is going to be exciting, bloody, and spectacular."

"And that is all for tonight!" Nero said, grinning. "Tomorrow the tributes should be getting in and the festivities will continue anew. Goodnight, Panem!"


	6. Chapter 6

**Reviews are super important, please take a minute to leave me a review!**

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><p>I sat by the window of the train, staring out at the landscape flying by. The sound of footsteps made me look up, and I saw Ash standing in the doorway. I stood and moved to my bed, sitting down on the foot and patting the covers next to me. Ash closed the door behind him and walked towards me through the darkness of the car, sitting on the bed and bringing his knees up under his chin.<p>

"I'm scared, Rosa."

"Don't be," I said, shaking my head. "Fear doesn't help anyone, it just makes your hands shake."

"Rosa... at least one of us is going to die," he said, his eyes watering. The moonlight filtering in through the window made his blonde hair glow a ghostly white and his eyes shone.

"Ash, you're going to make it home, don't worry," I said, hugging him tightly.

"But even if I do, you won't..." he said, pulling back and looking up at me. He glanced down at the necklace going around my neck. "Did Dad give that to you? Is it going to be your token?"

"Yeah," I said, nodding. "Did they give you something?"

"It's not something I can take into the games, but..." he reached into his pocked and pulled out a small book. It was Mom's plant book from when she was a kid, which she and Dad had kept up over the years. It was filled with plants, their uses, pictures of them, and every few pages there was a dried and pressed sample of something... a primrose, nightlock leaves, so forth. "Mom wanted me to study it so we wouldn't do something stupid like Dad almost did with the night-lock berries. She said if we were going to die, we weren't going to die by some pollinated bubbles of juice..."

I smirked. "Are you sure you can't take it into the games?"

"It would give me an advantage, wouldn't it? I don't think we're allowed to take stuff that gives us advantages in the games..." he said, running his fingers along the worn spine of the little book. "Mom did give me this, though, if I can't take this into the games." he pulled the mockingjay pin out of his pocket and held it out in the moonlight.

It was old and damaged now, with dried blood in some of the hard to reach crevices of the pin. The clasp didn't shut properly anymore and the arrow was bent, but it had sentimental value so that still mattered.

"I don't know if they're going to let you take the symbol of the rebellion in there," I said, frowning.

"They might," he said, his face growing somber with an age unfitting of a twelve year old. "When they see how damaged it is, and how broken it looks."

I looked at him for a long moment, processing what he had just said. Not sure how to respond, I just said, "We need to make a good impression tomorrow in order to get sponsors. Make sure you get your sleep, Ash." He nodded, got up off my bed with his book and his pin in hand, and walked back to the door.

"Goodnight," he said.

"Goodnight," I replied. He opened the door and left. The door closed behind him, and I sat in silence in the dark for a long time. I ran my fingers over the painted wood of the necklace, then crawled under the covers. I thought I would face another sleepless night, but the exhaustion took hold and instead I fell fast asleep.

I woke to light streaming in through the windows and I lay there for a minute, staring at the beams of sunlight. Part of me was surprised to see it, as though the sun really wasn't going to rise again after Ash and I were drawn, as though it really was the end of the world. But somehow, the world kept spinning.

I got up and went back into the bathroom, brushed my hair and washed my face. I found fresh clothes and changed into a long sleeved blue and green shirt with another pair of dress-pants.

The thoughts of the games ahead took over my mind. I couldn't seem to stop twitching, and adrenaline began flooding my blood. I paced back and forth through my room, not wanting to go out yet but also having no idea what time it was.

I paused, took a deep breath, and stretched my hands high towards the ceiling. I released the breath, reaching for my toes now. I went through a few yoga exercises similar to this until the adrenaline began to fade. Even after that, I kept going through the motions with my eyes closed, just trying to keep my mind awake and calm.

I was interrupted by a knock on the door. Aelia's voice said, "Breakfast, breakfast, breakfast!"

I sighed, stood up, and made sure my clothes were all in order. I left my room without bothering to make my bed, which Mom would have skinned alive for at home, but I just couldn't find a way to care right now.

In the dining car everyone but Hadriana was already there. Plates of bacon, eggs, toast, potatoes, roasted peppers, sausage, waffles, pancakes, french toast, bowls of oatmeal, butter, syrup and sugar, pitchers of water and various juices and more decorated the table.

Naevius was on his feet filling up a plate with toast , bacon and potatoes when I walked in. He glanced up at me, then grabbed some silverware from the empty seat and carried it past me back down the hallway I had just emerged from.

"Hadriana, I have breakfast for you," his voice reached my ears. A door opened and coughing filled the hallway, then the door shut again and Naevius reappeared. He smiled at me. "Breakfast, Rosa?" I nodded, moved back to the table. I sat in the same seat as I had the night before and looked at a huge breakfast spread without much appetite. I put a few pieces of bacon on my plate anyways, but I barely touched them.

Breakfast was the definition of awkward. It was silent, almost completely except for when Aelia tried to make small talk. When all else failed, she started telling us her life story. Apparently she was born in District Two before the rebellion and stayed faithful to the capital and was now being rewarded by becoming a capital citizen. She also said Effie Trinket was her role model. After that point I just completely zoned out.

Finally, the train began to slow and I looked up. Outside of the windows I saw that the landscape had transformed into tall buildings. The sound of cheering crowds leaked through the cracked windows and I heard Nero's voice booming over the crowd, announcing that the thirteen trains were finally arriving from across Panem, and they meet the tributes in the flesh.

Here we go.


	7. Chapter 7

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The train came to a complete stop and Aelia ushered Ash, John, Allie and I to the nearest doors. She muttered to herself about our choice in clothes and wondered aloud why she hadn't picked out our presentation outfits for us, but she never addressed us directly and nor did we reply to her mutterings.

When the doors opened, sunlight poured into the traincar and I squinted out at the crowd. They parted like a sea over the cobblestone street, held back every few feet by men in blue. A few hundred paces ahead of where I stood, the four tributes from district eleven walked. They were all careful paces away, not looking at each other. Aelia ushered us out of the car and I walked forwards uncertainly, Ash a half pace behind me. Allie walked quickly to remain abreast with me; I guessed that she didn't want it to look like I was the leader of our district.

I walked down the steps outside the station. I stared at the crowds on either side of us with wide eyes and managed to find a smile, waving at them hesitantly. After a little bit I got more into the waving, remembering what Mom always laughed about Dad saying the first day they got to the Capitol; _Who knows? Maybe one of them is rich. _Mom always said that's the first time she realized Dad was going to be a challenge in the arena. In fact, he was just so challenging that it was easier for her to start a war than to kill him! That's what she told us, anyway.

I was glad things in the Capitol were already going so differently than what Mom and Dad had told us about. It made it easier to put them aside.

"Say hello to the district twelve tributes!" Nero's voice boomed through the street and I glanced upwards to see his face broadcast onto the huge underside of a ship. I noticed with interest that Kit wasn't on screen with him. I looked back down and continued waving.

The tracks behind us started clicking and I looked over my shoulder to see the train pull slowly out of the station and around a building, only to be followed up immediately by an identical train with a gigantic thirteen painted on the side. The doors opened and I saw the four kids from district thirteen standing in the shadows, fear emanating from their postures. I turned back, fighting off a sudden bout of queeziness as it started to sink in... If I wanted to get Ash home, those kids were going to all have to die. So was Allie. So was John. And I was probably going to have to kill some of them.

The walk was long to abide for all the Capitol citizens who wanted to see us walked before them like show dogs, but I was absent minded for most of it. I waved until my arm hurt and then alternated arms, hoping that I was being more interesting than the other tributes and I would stay in the Capitol citizens' minds longer. If I got the funding I could use it to help Ash through the games...

We finally rounded a corner and a huge, slender building rose up before us with delicate arches and windows that were an array of colors, reflecting even the daylight sun in all the colors of sunset. Glass doors with frosted figures rose up twenty feet and were topped with stained glass images showing each of the thirteen districts. Before the doors were smooth white marble steps with gold veins running through it and they led directly between two columns, shadowing the doorstep of the building.

I hesitated for a heartbeat before setting foot on the stairs. I felt as though I was walking to my own cage, a cage with glass doors instead of bars and it would trap me... it would trap me in a cage distinct from the other tributes and then that cage would let us lose in a gladiators ring, only to come out if we should be victorious.

An irrational part of my mind screamed out to run, that this was my last chance and if I went up those steps I would have been sealed in my own fate. The other part of me knew that I was sealed the second I walked up onto that stage, or maybe even the second those Peacekeepers caught Ash and I in the woods. Before the irrational part of my mind was even done screaming I had forced myself up the steps and through the doors.

The entry hall was huge, warm and welcoming, made out of the same polished marble as the front and it was bedecked with red throws to soften the glare of the stone. A warm red wood made up the entirety of the furniture and the scent of wood smoke filled the room, even though I was under no illusion that the Capitol was using a fire for warmth. An elegant stairwell swirled upwards about ten steps, but it was only for looks because it led almost directly to an elevator. A semicircle above the elevator doors was inscribed with fourteen numbers, and right now the number 11 was glowing brightly. A clock hand pointed to it, and then started swinging back through the numbers until the zero glowed, and the doors chimed open... waiting.

We walked up that elegant staircase to the elevator and stepped in, just the four of us. The doors closed behind us and I looked along the wall for a panel of numbers to press but there was none. An automated female voice spoke, "Recognized: District Twelve Tributes" and we began to rise. When the elevator stopped and opened we were faced with another open room filled with the most modern furniture and items we could imagine. We stepped out and the doors shut silently behind us, descending back into the depths to retrieve the District Thirteen tributes.

I brought my attention back to the room and for the first time I noticed eight new faces sitting in furniture on the far side of the room, along with Aelia, Naevius and Hadriana. They looked up at us and we were greeted by a few smiles, a few sad faces, and a few neutral ones.

"Hello hello hello!" Aelia said, clasping her hands together and getting to her feet.

"How..." John hesitated, looking back behind him at the elevator, his pointer finger extended loosely to point at her. "But we left you on the train, how'd you beat us back?"

"The train came around behind the building and dropped us off. There's a second elevator," Naevius answered in a smooth tone.

"Yes," Aelia said impatiently. "Here are your fashion teams, to help you look your very best!"

"But there's only eight," Ash said, looking up. "Do we each only get two? I thought there were four..."

"There were in the Hunger Games," a man with dark skin and a deep voice said, looking up solemnly. "However, they hired more of us for the Graveyard Games and less go to each tribute... there are a lot more tributes now. The eight of us would have been split between two tributes, now we are split between four."

"I realized," Allie chipped in dryly.

"Right, well," a woman with long lavender hair and long eyelashes of the same color stood up and batted her eyes. Gold tattoos ringed her face and she tapped her long nails against a clipboard in her hands. "I am looking forward to working with Ash... Ever... Everyd... Everdeen Mallark." She looked up and skimmed between the boys, quickly settling on Ash's face. "You look just like your dad. Except your eyes, they're your mother's."

She looped her arm through Ash's and skipped to the back of the building. The man with the dark skin and the deep voice rolled his eyes.

"Primrose?" he asked, looking at me. I nodded, and he gestured to the back where Ash and the weird woman had disappeared a few moments before. He walked in front of me quietly, leading me out a door and to a room that was completely clean and covered in steel.

A female voice came from behind me and I started, remembering then that there had been two of them assigned to me. "I'll clean her up if you go get the make up and dresses," the woman said. She was slightly more flamboyant than the man but she had a calm, more subdued voice. Mom had always described the Capitol citizens as so preppy that it was odd for me to come across so many that were so calm.

The man just nodded, then he left.

"Strip," the woman commanded, then she turned and started filling a large steel tub with water. I blinked, not entirely sure that I had heard her right.

"Sorry but I am fully capable of bathing myself if you don't mind..."

"Right, a girl who lived her teenage years in wars knows more about making herself look glorious than the woman who has trained her entire life in this. Silly me," the woman said snidely. Her expression changed for a minute. "I am Tatiana, by the way. No need to be embarrassed, silly duck. I'll look away if it makes you feel more comfortable."

I nodded slowly, and she turned around. I shed the Capitol clothes and slipped into the tub. A small whirring sound came from the metal and suddenly bubbles were everywhere, including up my nose. The whole room smelled of roses.

"Ugh – Oh gods," I said, trying to get it out of my face.

"Sorry," the woman said. "It does that sometimes. Still haven't fixed all the kinks and gone back to how it used to be..."

The water started swirling around me like I was in a giganic washing machine. The woman didn't talk, nor did she look. Instead, she busied herself on the other side of the room with towels and robes and whatnot. After a few minutes the water left the tub with a _whoosh_ and I was left dripping wet in a cold tub, completely exposed. Still without looking, she threw a towel back over her head.

"Cover yourself," she said, but before she had really given me the opportunity to she was turning back around. I scrambled with the towel and blushed slightly. "God, you District people are so sensitive about your bodies. Here, if you're truly so worried, have a robe."

Another few minutes later I was wrapped in a thick robe and had the towel coiled around my hair to keep it from dripping into my eyes. Tatiana then pointed to a metal chair that looked very cold and uncomfortable, but was actually the opposite. It was warm to the touch and the metal pieces rearranged themselves to be more comfortable than they looked.

The man returned with a large metal box on wheels, that seemed to match the sterile steel of the rest of the room. He situated it in front of me and popped up the large metal lid so that way it just showed me my own face staring back at me.

"Waxing?" he asked the woman. I had no idea what he meant, but the woman nodded. "Here, then."

She took long white strips from them and stuck them to my bare legs, then pulled. I yelped slightly as strip after strip of fine hair was yanked from my body, sculpting eyebrows, legs and underarms. The man just watched, frowning slightly.

"Well, Primrose," he said in that deep voice. "It looks to me as though we need to change you as much as possible." I felt the slight stirrings of anger in my chest. "You look too much like your mother. The entire Capitol hates her, and it will not do you any good to remind them of who you are. She was the one who condemned them to exile for the last twenty-five years, you know."

I swallowed my anger as I realized he was just trying to keep me alive, for whatever reason he might have. He picked up a lock of my hair and looked at it. "Yes, we want to make you different from her, but give you an echo for those of us who cherished the victory of the rebellion, even if it was only for a little while."

I looked up in surprise and stared into his face, wondering about him. "I'm sorry, perhaps I should introduce myself. My name is Cinna."

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	8. Chapter 8

**Hi! If you've gotten this far and still like the story enough to continue through this chapter, please do me a favor and favorite/follow/review! They make my day! Thanks! 3**

I had no idea what to say. Mom had told me about someone named Cinna before, of course. I knew all about Cinna, her awesome stylist, her rebellious Capitol friend, her _dead _rebellious Capitol friend. I looked at the man again and realized just how similar he looked to how Mom had described Cinna to me; darker skin, short cropped brown hair, very simple and ordinary with the exception of his gold eyeliner which brought out the gold flecks in his green eyes. However, Mom had been very clear that he was taken by the Capitol and never found, presumed dead after an interrogation on him.

Presumed...

"I'm guessing from that look that Katniss mentioned the name before?" he said, looking at me in an amused way. He leaned against the metal cart and crossed his arms, his eyes half closed. "Did she say anything terribly interesting?"

"Well... she mentioned that you were dead," I said slowly, unsure how to proceed. Was it actually Cinna? The one Mom had told me about? Or was it Cinna's son? Or someone completely unrelated, with just the same name by coincidence...?

"Mmm," he said, his brow knitting slightly in confusion. "Well... why would she say that?"

"She said they never found you, and everyone thought you... he... something... died in interrogation," I said.

Now he looked even more confused. "I would have... if not for Portia," he replied slowly, squinting at me now. "Didn't she tell you when the war was over?"

"Got back from what?" I said, now equally confused. "I never knew her, she died before I was born. I know practically nothing about her. What are you talking about?"

Cinna paled and started slumping down. "She died?"

Oh crap. That is not how you tell someone their friend died. What the hell is wrong with me?!

"I am so sorry, I thought you knew," I said quickly. "She died in the middle of the rebellion."

"Oh," he said, looking at nothing in particular. "Well, I believe I know what happened. Allow me to explain, so that once you are out of the arena you can let your mother know.

"After she was inside the tube under the arena, I was mugged by Peacekeepers and knocked unconscious. When I woke up, I was interrogated for weeks on end, especially after they managed to break out of the arena. I was very close to death, so I suppose they weren't too far off. One night after the interrogator left, I was on a cold cement floor, coughing blood. I had lost a tooth, which they hadn't dared to do before. Five of my fingers were broken and one was missing..." he trailed off and held up his hands for me to see the missing pinkie on his left hand.

"The door opened and I didn't dare to look up. I assumed it was the interrogator back to finish me off, but a female voice greeted me instead. A kind female voice, a familiar female voice. I didn't have the strength to sit up or lift my head to see, but I would recognize that voice on any day. It belonged to Portia. She helped me up and led me out of the room and outside of the building. I'm still not sure how she managed it, but I assume that they just never thought someone would break in just to break me out.

"We were out of the building and two blocks away before the alarms in the building finally went off. At that moment, it was either both of us would be caught or she would escape and leave me to my own devices. I told her to run and join the rebellion; they knew what she had done and she would never be welcome in the Capitol again. I made sure she knew I was proud of her. I told her to not tell anyone about what had happened until the rebellion was over, because I feared Katniss would try to find me and that simply wouldn't do.

"She cried but she did as she was told. I limped into an alley, finding energy in the hope that fresh air gave me. I wiped the blood off my face and slunk into the nearest building, which happened to be a dimly lit bar. To anyone who asked, I told them I got in a fight with my brother. I stayed there for three hours and not a single peacekeeper entered that bar. I left when a TV on the wall of the bar broadcast my face across it, just because of paranoia... I was too swollen for anyone to recognize me anyway.

"I collected food and left the Capitol that night. I stayed in the woods for months until I had fully recovered, but when I started to make my way back the Capitol was in full out war. Refugees stumbled into the woods each day and I helped them, giving them water and what food I could manage, medicine if I had any. Even though they were Capitol citizens and I knew I was supposed to fight for the other side, I was from the Capitol too and I couldn't let them die. With each day that passed I hoped your mother would come find me, or Portia, and that she would find the refugees too and bring them back to the Capitol and restore them into society after whatever punishment was fit. But she never did.

"Years passed and no one recognized me, but that was alright. I disappeared into the background of the refugee camp, and I did as many small things as I could to keep the camp crippled and to remove any threat it could possibly pose to the new nation but I failed.

"When the games finally came around, I made a single request... that I be a stylist. Still no one recognized me; my face was broad from scar-tissue and my hands misshapen, and my posture is very different after damage to my spine and broken ribs. But a few remembered me when I had helped them in the woods that day and so they allowed me to be a stylist again, for District 12.

"So here I am. I suppose Portia never relayed the news that I lived, considering she died before she was supposed to say anything..."

Cinna looked heavy and tired, so heavy that even his eyelids were dropping down over his eyes.

I had no idea what to say for the third time in as many minutes. Something about what he said and how he reacted didn't ring quite right, almost false, but I couldn't see why someone would possibly lie to me about being my mother's dead stylist whom I had never met. I also couldn't come up with a way it would pose a threat to me, so I did not argue or raise a query. It seemed foolish to pick a fight with the man who would basically decide how many sponsors I got, anyway.

He didn't speak any more after that, and I didn't offer up conversation either. He moved around me with boxes, buckets, brushes, and sprays and started messing with my hair. Strong smells that I didn't recognize were coming from atop my head but from my angle I couldn't see the reflection of my hair in the mirror.

"We don't want them to think you look like Katniss the Mockingjay, the one who brought their world crumbling down," Cinna said after about thirty minutes. "But those who remember her as the Girl on Fire are the ones who still would route for you." The metal chair started rising upright and my hair spilled down over my shoulders in waves. To my surprise my black hair was bleached and died in an array of reds, oranges and yellows done just so that it looked like my hair could have been burning.

"They are going to parade you in front of the Capitol just like they used to," Tatiana said helpfully. I frowned at her; she didn't look much older than me, so there wasn't much chance she was alive when the Capitol still reigned, much less old enough to remember it.

"This is my daughter, by the way," Cinna said quietly, pointing to Tatiana. My face cleared, realizing that he must have told her about it in the same way Mom had told me. Looking at the two I saw the similarity now; she had lighter skin and pale brown hair that corkscrewed out from her head in all directions, and sparkling green eyes with the same flecks of gold in them that Cinna had. She had more delicate bones than Cinna, and a smooth face that either came from her mother or it was how Cinna had looked before years of pain and torture had aged him so. "Finish the make up, Tia, I'm going to go finish putting the final touches on her dress."

"Dad wanted you to look different than the other tributes in District Twelve. When Katniss and Peeta had been together he wanted to make them look together, but in a setting with fifty two tributes he wanted to make you stand out. And if you looked like the other tributes it would make everyone think of Katniss and... well... that wouldn't work in your favor," she said. She didn't talk much after that except for a few comments about how my nails were surprisingly well kept for a rugged twelvian and how even having that said, they were truly awful. An assortment of flowers, powders, smells, and liquids went dancing across my face, hands and feet in a blur and I just sat there, trying to breathe and not get the worst headache of my life from those smells.

After what seemed like ages, she moved and I could see my reflection again. It was completely appalling to see myself in that mirror because I did not look like myself at all. She had done make up around my eyes to give a dark, smokey look that somehow made my eyes glow blue, a very bright blue that was very different from my mother's grey. Shadows had been added to my face that hadn't been there before, giving me a more defined jaw and a slimmer nose to down-play my facial relation to my mother. A deep red lipstick fit into my face in a way that looked more natural than it should, and when I finally dragged my attention down to my hands I saw swirls of red and yellow on my nails that looked like marbled fire.

For a minute, I felt a swirl of girlish pride. I felt so _pretty. _It was one of those things that Mom and Dad never really encouraged... being girly, loving dresses, make up, colors... but I reminded myself that I wasn't going to see them anymore anyway, so I could be as girly as I wanted. And for that second, I absolutely loved being girly. I loved feeling like I was actually really pretty.

That was when Cinna came in with the dress. Not _a _dress, but _the _dress.

The most amazing dress I had ever seen.


	9. Chapter 9

**Ohmygods guys I love you. 3 I left after posting chapter 8 and I come back an hour later and I had like... 7 emails about people favoriting/following/reviewing. I was literally dancing in my seat. It was completely awesome, it means a ton to me when people favorite/follow/review. You are beautiful people. 3 As a reward, have another chapter! **

He handed the dress to me, with a stack of other clothes. When I didn't strip out of my robe right then and there and start dressing myself, he frowned slightly. "Do you not like it?"

"She's SHY, Dad," Tatiana said, rolling her eyes. "Leave the room, I'll help."

"Just like Katniss." Cinna shook his head and left. I sincerely hoped he would stop comparing me to my mother; it just kept reminding me of her. Once he was gone, I reluctantly shucked out of my robe and stood there awkwardly with Tatiana. She handed me a thigh-length thin cotton shirt, which I pulled on over my head eagerly. It was very VERY tight fitting, but it covered me so that would have to do for now.

She wrapped a thick cotton thing around my chest then that was almost like a bra but not quite, I had no idea quite how to describe it. Then came the corsette... I knew what that was, but knowing it's name made me no more comfortable wearing it. It snapped across the back and held me super-tightly in place. I was already starting to regret that whole wanting to be girly thing that I had been thinking but moments before.

Tatiana growled irritably from behind me and pinned my hair up quickly; I assumed it was getting in her way.

Then came the stockings. It was weird to me, because with such a tight corset I really couldn't bend down to pull the stockings on myself. If it had been up to me, I would have put them on immediately after the shirt, but apparently it really wasn't up to me. Once the stockings were just past my knees I could pull them the rest of the way up. They were nude and smooth, I suppose to cover some of the scars that I had from a childhood playing in the woods.

Then, finally, came the dress. She pooled it gently on the floor and I stepped into the hole in the center. She pulled it up around me and it fit like a glove, lacing up behind me around the snaps on the corset to make an elegant web of black and silver. The front of the dress was black and had a thick band around my midsection that started just under my chest and ended just above my hips, showing off my figure in every way it could manage. The black midsection was studded with tiny silver diamonds that swirled up and around my body tracing spirals and flowers. The lines raced up over my right shoulder to meet in a diamond flower, leaving my left shoulder bare. The lines on the other end of the swirls raced down my thighs where the black gossamer turned into a deep dark red, then a bright orange, then a yellow. The gossamer was cut into strips around my knees, almost like the petals of some burning flower. The bright colors on the end of the dress matched my hair, creating a sort of balance.

Then, he got out the shoes. They were black and made out of a sort of fabric, almost like ballet shoes and they wrapped up and around my legs in a laced pattern to tie behind my knees. Silver diamonds were studded on the shoes, too. While he laced the shoes up and tied them, Tatiana grabbed hold of my hands and started drawing on them with an oil-charcoal pencil, tracing swirls and designs up my arm in black that made my skin look ghostly pale even though I was rather tan.

Then, they went back at my hair.

I lost track of everything they were doing to me but when they finally stopped, they steered me before the shining metal mirror. My hair hung in waves of fire running down to my waist, and it was pinned back on one side with a diamond flower to match the one on the shoulder of my dress. The coal on my arms was elegant and made what pale skin showed through look flawless even though I knew there were scars and freckles there, and the dress accented my body in a way that made me look completely other than myself.

I stared for a long while. I couldn't believe how different I looked, it was unsettling. Almost like I had stepped into the body of another.

"Hurry up!" a voice outside the door interrupted my thoughts. It was Aelia's voice, whom I had forgotten completely. "We should be going, going, gone!"

"You are ready to walk out if you'd like," Cinna said in that calm, somber voice.

I nodded slowly, then paused. "Is any of this going to smudge if I rub it or anything?" I asked. I was worried about messing up their hard work and ending up looking like I came from a party in a mine.

"You really think that after working with Katniss, I would have given her daughter ANYTHING that smudged?" Cinna said, arching an eyebrow at me. I smiled half-heartedly and turned, going back for the door.

"Oh, and... Primrose," Cinna said, causing me to turn back around. "Don't forget to smile."

I didn't have it in me to smile then, but I did reply, "I'm Rosa, by the way. Primrose was my aunt." I then left the room, closing the door behind me. But not before I heard Cinna murmur under his breath,

"The name must be cursed."

The other three from District Twelve weren't so lucky in their stylists. Allie was dressed completely ridiculously, in a coal miner's uniform and had coal caked on her face. She looked about as happy as a wet cat. John was showing off his toned body in a speedo encrusted with fake, polished coal. He had stripes of coal on his bare skin and face, and looked completely uncomfortable. It was a good thing he was cute, or he'd have absolutely ZERO funding from the Capitol in that outfit.

Ash was slightly better off, but not much, which kinda pissed me off. He needed funding from the Capitol, what the hell were these stylists thinking?! He was in a skin-tight full body black suit, with a red and yellow cape on him like he was some kind of superman. Clearly, his stylist had tried to copy the fire of Cinna's ideas, but basically it looked like someone had printed a picture of fire on a blanket and tied the blanket around his neck.

When I entered the room, John looked impressed. Ash grinned. And Allie looked pissed. She didn't say anything, though, so that was nice; I didn't either.

We didn't have much of an opportunity to talk before we were ushered out, anyway. We stepped into the elevator, cramming the four tributes, the eight stylists, the two mentors and Aelia all into one elevator going down the building. When we reached the bottom floor, it was similar to how we remembered it but there were already probably sixty people in the room. I looked around and spotted the District Ten tributes with their mentors, stylists and escort. District Two was there, as well, and District 13. I couldn't place the other district that was already down there, which was odd... I thought I'd remember the tributes enough to place faces with a District, but I guess not. Maybe they were from Nine or something.

"Because there are so many tributes this year, they didn't want to put you in chariots," Aelia started talking to us. "They would either have to cram four of you into a single chariot or split the districts into groups of two tributes to go into the chariots, and that wasn't what they wanted. So, instead, your stylists had three options... to have you walk or dance your way across the town, to have you ride a horse, or to have you stand on a float. Your stylists chose horses. I think... Did all of you pick horses?" She turned to look at the stylists, who nodded. Even Cinna, who winked at me. "They were allowed to decorate the horses specially though so... they will show you your horses. Down this way, this way!"

She skipped off down the stairs and into the entry hall that we had seen when we arrived a few hours before. She then led us through a huge corridor to the right which emptied out into a large stone room. The room was missing a wall; instead of having a wall up by the street, it was completely open and bare. We could see a crowd gathering outside already.

In that room, six more blobs of people were standing. Some of them were around floats, some of them had horses, some of them were standing around nothing. Aside from those 6 blobs, there were seven more marked off spots in the room, one of which had a large black banner hanging over it with the number 12 written on it in gold thread.

We walked our way over and as we got closer, I could make out the four horses standing there. They were all black, but they were each decorated in a different way. I stopped looking at them, though, because I knew I would have plenty of time to observe them later and instead took the opportunity to scope out our opponents.

That girl with the red hair and the brown eyes from District Seven was watching me. When I looked up, I made eye contact with her immediately. Her face was calm, as though she was at peace, but her eyes were shadowed and calculating. Her shoulders were back and she stood there completely confident. She was draped in a gossamer green cloth that wrapped it's way around her body, letting skin show through in all the right places. Her red hair was held back partially with a stick slid between her locks, holding a bun in place. She looked precisely like a wood nymph. And she had no horse, and no float. It made me wonder why her stylists were planning on making her walk.

I tore my gaze away, and saw the scared little girl from district 5. She was watching me too. She was smaller than Ash, by a lot, and she had wide green eyes that sought me out. I wondered why so many of them were staring at me, and then I remembered what Cinna had made me look like. The girl had the crackle of lightning running across her dress, I suppose to make her look electric considering that District 5's main export is power.

I looked away from the girl, too, and realized we had already reached the number 12. Cinna steered me away from the other three tributes and to one of the horses. This particular horse was incredibly tall, so tall that I wasn't entirely sure how I was going to be able to get onto his back, much less in a dress. He was such a dark black that he was almost blue and had white flecks in his coat here and there, almost as though he was made out of the very fabric of the night sky. He had boots on his hooves and the saddle he was wearing glowed, same as the reins going back along his neck. His mane and tail were a silvery-white to match the flecks in his coat and his eyes weren't brown as was the norm in horses, but rather an eerie blue that showed the sideways-slit pupils that all horses had. Cinna steered me past him before I could finish appreciating him and to a wooden platform with steps leading up to it. I climbed atop it and Tatiana led the horse over to me.

I started to climb onto the horse in the only way I had ever seen a horse ridden, but Cinna made a noise in his throat that made me stop. "Side-saddle, silly duck," Tatiana said, smirking. "Just turn and sit on the saddle like it was any other bench."

I did as she said, and then she slid my right foot into the stirrups so as to hold my place. "Good, now turn so your torso so you're facing forwards... good, good," Tatiana continued instructing. "Now hold the reins like so. You don't need to steer him around, he's very well trained. He walks very smoothly, as well, so you don't have to worry about falling off. Just smile and look pretty, make sure to wave."

I looked up and smiled at her, a genuine smile this time, and in the process of looking up I saw that now eleven of the Districts were in this room. The only one that was missing was District 13.

Nero's voice came over the loudspeakers then, and all of the tributes grew quiet.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Nero announced. "Welcome to the Parade of Tributes, the first ever of the Graveyard Games! Immediately after, we will interview each of the tributes, so you can well and truly meet the fifty-two tributes you will be spending the next month of your lives with!"

Cheering made the building shake, and the horse beneath me quivered.

"What?!" I hissed to Cinna. "These are the interviews too?! I thought they were supposed to be separate! What am I going to say?! How am I supposed to act?! What... How..."

"Just smile. I hope you have your Dad's personality, because Katniss was about as personable as a sack of crabs," Cinna said calmly. "Your mother... She was fire. She burned away the competition, and that's what coal can do. The other thing that happens to coal... it turns to diamonds under pressure. Good luck."


	10. Chapter 10

**I have decided that if you would like to submit a tribute profile for this story, you may. Just be forewarned, you will probably be as dead as a doornail by the end if I keep writing it as I am planning on writing it... so, yeah. Just leave your name, age, gender, physical description, three words describing the personality and district in the comments (so long as there is still room in that district...). What's it gonna hurt, right? And may the odds be _ever _in your favor (they're not)!**

The District One tributes were rolling out of the door by the time Cinna had finished talking to me. The four of them were standing on a giganic float bedecked with silk and velvet, gold and platinum, wooden carvings and surprisingly simple chairs that each of them were sitting on. I suppose it was so that the chairs did not distract from the glory of what they themselves were wearing.

After they were out of sight, Nero's voice blasted through the building again. "_Welcome, the people of Panem, the District One tributes!" _Suddenly, a screen flickered on on the ceiling overhead, and we were seeing film footage of the District One tributes rolling down the street on their float. The cameras zoomed in on the young girl with the snow-white hair, "_Crystal Pierce!" _then the screens flipped over to the older girl from District One, "_Dianna Janson!" _They then flipped over to the bulky one from District One whose name I had already forgotten, "_Blaise Donnel!" _and then to the younger boy, "_Onyx Cardenian!"_

As the last syllable of Onyx's name was bellowed out, the District Two tributes started moving. They were standing on a float as well that was designed to look like they were standing atop a train car, each of them with weapons in hand that they promptly began waving in dizzying patterns for the crowd. They were in a skin-tight armor that made me think of chain mail, but I wasn't sure just what it was. _"The People of Panem welcome the District Two tributes!" _the screen overhead switched from the District One float to the District Two float, and was greeted by the bellow of noise in the background. "_Maroon Ison!" _A girl with auburn hair flitted across the screen. "_Thalia Mahija!" _A girl with black hair and blue eyes, with a calm demeanor flashed by. "_Ty Hawthorne!" _The guy I had taken note of before, who looked like Mom's old friend, Gale, reappeared. As I looked at this boy again, I decided that he certainly was Gale's son. The final District Two tribute went by before I even paid attention to what he looked like, _"Otaco Mierez!"_

On the last syllable of Otaco's name, the District Three tributes started leaving. Two of them were on floats but they were separate from one another. Their stylists had clearly taken the idea of a _float _to a literal level; they were zooming around on hoverboards, waving at the audiences. Between the two hoverboarders, the other two tributes were walking with live wires in their hands, clapping the wires together every now and then to send a huge pillar of sparks flying into the air. "_The People of Panm would like to welcome the District Three tributes!" _I know he said their names, but I stopped paying attention. Instead, I was watching the screen to see if Ty would fly by again. Something was weird about that boy, even though I hadn't met him...

The District Four tributes began moving, and I assumed that Nero had finished reciting off the names of the District Three tributes. I cursed myself slightly for not paying attention; I was going to be fighting these people to the death in a matter of days, and I hadn't even bothered to learn their names? Urgh. I looked at the District Four tributes again, and saw that their stylists had obviously collaborated. The girls were wearing almost identical sea green dresses that had the occasional swirls of blue, and wrapped around the dress like a Roman toga were thin-meshed sea nets. They stood like goddesses of the sea on a float designed to look like a boat, and on either side of the float were the two male districts from District Four, who were completely topless and very nearly bottomless, with blue paint swirled along their legs and their privates covered mostly by the saddles of the horses they were sitting on. The horses were white, but their manes and tails were dyed to look like what a sea would be. I had only seen the sea once... we stopped in District Four one time on the way to visit someone in District Two, who I couldn't remember anymore. We spent a day by the ocean, and it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Ash was only three so I doubt he'd remember it, and Blue hadn't even been born yet, but that was alright. It was one of the few things that I remembered from before the war.

The District Five tributes started rolling out and I cursed myself again for missing out on the names of the tributes. I had been too lost in my own thoughts, but I was determined to pay attention this go around. The little girl was in the lead, on a tiny little pony that was painted yellow. Her dress crackled with lightning and when she waved at the audience, electricity leaped from her fingers up into the other three tributes were on full-sized horses, arrayed behind her like points on a spear. When the cameras took on the tributes from above, I saw arcing wires connecting the four of them that glowed as though a netting of lightning was cast atop their heads. _"Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome the District Five tributes!" _The cameras zoomed in on the little girl. "_Kiki Mira!"_the little girl looked up at the camera, her eyes seeming to cut through the lense and stare at me. I knew that she wasn't really staring at me and that anybody else looking at the screen would be experiencing the same thing, but it was relatively terrifying. I missed the other three tributes, but I figured that I was at least improving.

When District Six started moving, I didn't even bother trying to pay attention. No one was ever really worried about anyone from six. They were all on horses, and they were dressed to look like train conductors. Aside from that, it was relatively boring to watch.

Then, District Seven started moving. Everyone from that district was on horses except for the nymph girl, who walked with a gentle grace until she was out of the room and on the street. When the cameras flickered over to District Seven, though, she was twirling and dancing around the horses in a display of control and delicacy, occasionally doing flips or jumping clear over the horses of her compatriots. The thin green gossamer held to her body, never once slipping to show too much or too little, but staying in place as though it had been glued to her body. I learned her name, but soon forgot the others... _Mirabella Mason._

District Eight was slightly too eager and started moving just barely too soon, but almost all of us caught it. They were all on a float that was very plain; basically a platform covered in fabric. The platform was led by 2 horses dressed in fabrics, and the tributes themselves were covered in so much fabric they might have been a sofa. I assumed the particularly large fabric blob was the huge guy I had taken note of before, but aside from that I had little to no clue. I felt bad for them, honestly; they weren't going to get any funding looking like that. Even their faces were covered, so I couldn't mentally pair faces with names.

District Nine was on a float as well. The float was covered in thigh-high golden grain, in which the tributes stood. The female tributes were in simple cotton summer dresses, while the male tributes were in tan cotton shirts over dark brown pants. The girls were doing their very best to look pretty and vaguely seductive or memorable by giving the crowd half-shy smiles and running their fingers over the tops of the grains, swaying slightly back and forth. The crowd cheered loudly, but they didn't impress me much. Their names went right on over my head. Maybe they should have impressed me, though... so many of them were flying over my head that I was obviously underestimating a lot of them.

District Ten had four horses with them, but only two of the tributes were actually horseback. One of the boys and the less graceful of the twin girls were dancing their horses back and forth in a braid pattern, while the more graceful girl and a very athletic boy were on the ground with their horses. Every now and then the girl would spin up and over her horse to land in a crouch on the other side and continue dancing through the street like a ballerina. She was impressive, but not nearly as impressive as the nymph girl from district seven... Mirabella, I think her name was. But I managed to remember the last name of the twins, Benson.

District Eleven had a float with a fake tree in the middle, and in the branches of the tree sat the four tributes. They were in simple clothes done to represent trees and agriculture but I really didn't pay attention to the details, I was so terrified. We were going next. I had no idea what I could possibly do to look elegant or memorable, all I knew was that I was shaking. I was shaking so hard that I was probably going to fall off the horse, and unlike the nymph girl or the graceful twin, I was definitely not elegant enough to make the fall look like that was what I meant to do.

How on earth had all the other tributes developed this choreographed shit while I was sitting here in a pretty dress with absolutely ZERO idea of what was going on?!

Before I had the time to voice my concerns, Cinna smacked my horse on the butt and we were moving. Shit, had the last tribute from eleven already been announced?! I hadn't even heard it...!

After approximately three steps, I started smelling smoke. Oh, god, something was already going wrong. I was going to die on this horse before I ever even made it to the Games because that was about as lucky as I could possibly be. What was that smoke possibly coming from?!

I looked down, and saw that those weird boots my horse had been wearing were burning. Their flames reached up and licked across the horse's side, catching the reins on fire, the saddle on fire, and the laces on my shoes on fire. I cringed, thinking that the heat was about to burn me... but it didn't.

I reached out to touch the flames hesitantly, only to feel something like a warm breeze dance across the palm of my hand. The fire reflected in the diamonds on my dress, hair, and shoes and made them look like they were burning as well. I looked up and saw that we had left the big room and were now out in the open.

The crowds above us were dead silent. They were watching with their mouths open, and in those closest to me I could see my fire reflected in their eyes. Ash, John and Allie were behind me, but their horses weren't aflame. It made me feel horrified, and slightly embarrassed, and very, very alone.

But I was sure I was going to make an impression.

After several moments, Nero seemed to realize he was supposed to be narrating our entrance, as well. I could hear that he was speaking but couldn't make any sense of it over the blood pounding in my ears.

A new sound did reach my ears, though. The sound of a single person clapping. I looked up, and then the sound had multiplied. Soon, the crowd overhead was roaring, their yells deafening me, and I let go of my horse's reins with one hand. I reached up into the air and waved tentatively, then gave them a smile. I saw myself on several screens above the crowd, with a smile and waving. I was stunned slightly by the screens, because it looked nothing like me. I seemed even more otherworldly than I had before, with the warm air from the fake fire making my hair float around as though I was some long forgotten goddess of fire.

And the crowd loved me.

I just kept smiling and waving, doing my very best to seem personable and proper, when I heard the District 13 tributes being announced. I was tempted to look back, but I decided to keep my eyes trained on what was in front of me instead. I could ask to see a rerun of District Thirteen later.

The horse seemed to really know precisely what he was doing. At the end of the street, it opened into a very large circle almost like a cul-de-sac and on the other side of the circle was a huge stage, on which sat Nero and Kit. I was somewhat surprised to see Kit; I had assumed she would have been facing severe punishment for referring to us as kids the other night. But there she was, none the less.

The floats, horses and people were going in a circle around the cul-de-sac, and our horses fit into the ring perfectly. After a few minutes, District Thirteen joined us, and the horses and floats stopped moving.

"The People of Panem would like to formally welcome these 52 tributes to our first ever Graveyard Games. May you represent your districts with honor and with courage, and may the odds be ever in your favor. We would like to get to know each of your stories, and so we will interview each and every one of you after this short commercial break."

The screens overhead then flickered to some advertisement for pure gold tattoos, and the carts started moving again. This time, they went off a small street on the right, where each district got off their floats or horses and moved inside.

Here we go...

**As always, please PLEASE review/favorite/follow! When you do, a teenage girl squeals with happiness (not even joking. Literal squeals. Like... I'm pretty sure my parents think I'm a freak.)**


	11. Chapter 11

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When I jumped off that horse, the only thing I wanted was a glass of water. A nice, cold glass of water, and maybe a bathroom break so I didn't piss myself out of sheer fright in front of millions of people.

I made my way past crowds of people until I was at the back of the huge room everyone had emptied into. Down to my left, I could see the open stage with Nero and Kit sitting in their chairs, talking to each other in hushed tones. To the right, I saw what looked like a promising hallway with a water fountain. I drank some water, and then went to the bathroom.

On my way out of the bathroom (which was totally ridiculous, by the way. Who needs gold toilet seats, honestly?), I ended up walking straight into someone's chest. I staggered backwards and nearly fell over, already apologizing.

"No, no," a voice said, and firm hands steadied me on my feet. "It was all my faul – Rosa?" I looked up into the face of who I had just run into, and saw a vaguely familiar face. He was tall, and he had a square jaw and a big smile with dimples. His gray eyes and dark hair made me remember him as Ty, the District Two tribute.

"Oh," I said, stepping backwards and letting his hands fall back to his sides. "Uh, hi." His smile faltered for a moment.

"Don't you remember me?" he asked, and for a moment his sad puppy-dog eyes made me feel bad for not remembering this boy, even though there was no real reason I should have.

"Have we met?" I asked, taking another half step backwards.

"Ah, I forgot!" He smacked his forehead dramatically. "You were only... what, six or seven at the time? Would have been a stretch for you to remember. I was eight... your mom came to visit my dad? We spent a day playing by the beach, and then a week up by my house? We played Rebels and Capitol, with toy bows?"

"Uh..." I started, just staring at him. Then, the faintest inkling of a memory started coming back to me. On the same trip that we had gone by the ocean, we had stayed for a week or two in district two. While we were there, I played with this scrawny little boy with a greasy black mess for hair, and we pretended that twigs tied with fishing line were bows. "Oh my god," I said, realizing that this large and very cute boy standing in front of me was the tiny little boy I had played with years before. "Yes! I remember!"

I let a smile break out on my face, but I wasn't really happy that I remembered him. It was going to make killing him that much more difficult.

"I still think about that a lot," Ty said, his grin returning and showing off his pearly white teeth. "One of the best summers of my life, you know. Although, I seem to recall your hair being black..." he picked up a lock of my recently flame-dyed hair.

"Yeah," I replied, glancing down at it. "My stylist's idea. To make me look like the girl on fire and all that..."

"Totally get it," he said, his smile never ending. The smile was starting to get on my nerves a little bit; he was going to win the Capitol's hearts over with that kind of a smile! A bell rang out, and he glanced up. "That would be telling us to go back to the stage. Uh, I'm going to get some water." He pointed to the fountain that we had run into each other in front of. "Good luck, though!"

I nodded, and he skirted around past me. I walked down along the hallway, following the other tributes onto the stage.

He was very cute, though. I'd give him that.

Luckily, the chairs lined up across the stage were labeled with our district number and our name, otherwise I would have been too terrified to logically determine where I was supposed to sit. I was shaking from my hands to my toes to my hair, and I had no idea if I was even going to be able to speak coherent English in my interview, much less win over the crowd.

Well enough for me, 45 people were going to be interviewed before myself, so hopefully that meant I would have my nerves under control by the time my own interview rolled around.

I was so terrified that I wasn't even really aware when the District One tributes came up for their interview. The shaky girl with the white hair and the dark eyes, Crystal, didn't have much interesting to say, either. The other girl, who also had pale hair that was just a shade darker than Crystal's and had blue eyes, whose name was Dianna, ended up being blind out of one eye. I stored that away for future reference, but that was all I manged to remember from her interview.

By the time the second girl in District Two was done talking, though, I was calm enough to at least pay attention to the interviews of others. Just in time for Ty's interview.

He stood up very calmly, smoothed out his armor-like costume, and walked to the front of the stage. His shoulders were back and at ease and not even a smidgen of worry seemed to be on his face, which in and of itself made me a little bit worried. Anyone who was so confident was either a great threat or an arrogant buffoon, and he didn't strike me as the latter.

"Ty!" Nero said, grinning and sitting back in his own seat. Ty sat down in the seat beside Nero, offering another grin.

"Nero!" Ty said, copying Nero's tone in greeting him, eliciting a small laugh from the audience.

"So, you are the first District Two male tribute," Nero said. "Is there anything particular you'd like to tell us about yourself?"

"What would you like to know?" Ty said. From my angle on the far side of the stage, I could see that Ty wasn't quite as calm as he appeared; he had his hand clenched in his lap on the side opposite the cameras.

"Well," Nero said, giving him a mock-thoughtful look, even though everyone knew that Nero had already prepared questions for each tribute. "How about you tell us, what was going through your mind at the reaping?"

"Mostly, I was just grateful they called me Ty rather than my full name," Ty said, shrugging.

"Oh really?" Nero asked. "What is your real name? Tyler? I was thinking it was a rather odd name for District Two..."

"Actually, it's Typhoon. My mother thought it would be a hilarious play on words, because my dad's name is Gale."

"Ah!" Nero said, chuckling. "I would understand your appreciation, then. What are your parents like, then?"

"Well... uh," Ty said, apparently looking uncomfortable. "I just live with my dad, actually. My mom was never really in the picture. She gave birth to me, named me, and left me on my dad's doorstep, saying that I was his. He took it pretty well, though."

"Ah ha," Nero said. "Then is there a step-mom in the picture?"

"No, no," Ty said, shaking his head. "He fell in love with a girl once, and he always tells me about her. He still loves her, I think. But she married someone else."

"So you're all he has," Nero said, looking a little sad for Ty. "Did he tell you to win it for him?"

"Yeah," Ty said, nodding.

"Do you think you can take everyone else here down?" Nero said, looking genuinely curious.

"Yeah, but there's two that I'm not allowed to," Ty said, faltering as though he wasn't sure if he should say it or not.

"Really? Why?" Nero leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees.

Ty looked up and made eye contact with me over Nero's head. "Well, my dad said that I shouldn't hurt these two. It's because the girl he was in love with had two kids, and they're both here tonight."

The cameras all swiveled to stare at me then. My face was broadcast over the walls and the audience started murmuring to one another, and I just sat there, completely shocked. The boy that I had just remembered all of ten minutes ago had been ordered by his father to spare my life.

"Your father was in love with Katniss Everdeen?!" Nero said, putting two and two together immediately. Nero threw a look back over his shoulder at me, and I felt my cheeks flush bright red underneath the makeup.

"Yes, he was," Ty said. "He didn't stand much of a chance, though. Not really. Katniss left District 12 to go to the Hunger Games with Peeta Mellark, as most of you know. And they fell in love, and Dad wasn't there, and couldn't talk to her. He just had to watch them fall in love..."

"Tragic." Nero shook his head, with something very similar to regret on his face. "The true star-crossed lovers of District 12. But aren't you from District 2?"

"Yeah," Ty said, nodding. "Dad didn't want to live in District 12, not where he would have to be reminded every day of Katniss. So he went just about as far away as he could. Katniss did visit once, and she brought Rosa and Ash with her. Ash was too small to do much then, but Rosa and I were the best of friends for that little while. It was the best week of my childhood."

I couldn't decide if he was making up everything just to make an impression on the members of the Capitol or if he really meant what he said, but either way it amazed me. And considering that the average Capitol citizen had about half as many IQ points as a brain dead walrus, they were all certainly amazed as well.

"Can we expect an alliance, then, do you think?" Nero asked, looking back at me once more over his shoulder.

"I hope so, with all of my heart," Ty said, looking at me as well. "I really do." His last three words were as if they were spoken only to me, and for some reason I couldn't fully explain I found myself nodding. The audience was in an uproar.

The boy that I had just met a matter of minutes ago was winning my heart already, in a staged bit for the Capitol... what was wrong with me?

"Ladies and gentlemen," Nero said, trying to calm down the audience so that he can be heard. "As much as I'm sure we'd love to hear from Primrose, we have to wait." Ty nodded and returned to his seat, to be replaced by Otaco, the second male tribute.

I was distracted after that, though. And so was the rest of the audience, which was rather unfortunate for Otaco because no one really paid him much mind. Kit interviewed all the odd districts and Nero interviewed all the even districts, allowing for them to each have a break and drink some water in between.

The tributes in district 3 blurred past me. A girl from District 4 caught my attention for the same reason Dianna did, which was because she had something about her I hadn't noticed before. She had scars evenly spaced going up her arms, from an abusive father.

"My mum died when I was six," the girl said. "Dad didn't like me much after that. He didn't start with the knives until I was thirteen, though. That was when my older brother drowned. Honestly, I was glad my name was drawn. Now no matter the outcome, I'll be free of him."

The District Five tributes whirled by, and while I tried my best to pay attention to the little girl, Kiki, from District Five, I didn't learn much about her except that she had two younger brothers, and her mother had been one of the commanding officers in the Rebellion.

Six passed, too, without me paying any attention to them at all. When seven came around, the one girl I paid attention to was Mirabella.

"So, tell me," Kit began. "Were your parents involved in the rebellion, or were you just unlucky in the draw?"

"My mother was involved," Mirabella said, raising her chin high. "Johanna Mason, she was one of the victors in the Hunger Games, just like I will be in the Graveyard Games."

"Ah, I see! Johanna, I remember her. I was just a little girl when she won, you know. Anyway, tell us about yourself," Kit continued. "What do you like to do for fun?"

"I do ballet," Mirabella said, looking somewhat embarrassed. "I know it doesn't sound very threatening..."

"So that's where you got that exquisite grace that we saw when you were coming in," Kit said, obviously trying to help Mirabella.

"I suppose." Mirabella nodded, her hands fidgeting with long fingers in her lap. "I also play piano, and I paint." 

"Very artistic," Kit said. "I don't remember your mother being like that, do you get it from your Dad?"

"Yeah," she said, softly. "He died in the war, though. He was a musician, he liked to make violins out of the lumber we produced."

"That is very sad indeed," Kit said. "Do you think you can win this, to keep his legacy strong?"

"Yes," Mirabella answered, her voice firm.

And so in a very similar manner, each tribute went up, sat on that chair, and then returned to their own seat.

Then they called me.


	12. Chapter 12

**Review, review, review! It's super special to me! (Just going to do a little dance and brag a bit because I broke the fifty-mark on my Ranger's Apprentice story, it was absolutely awesome and fantabulous.)**

A sort of calm settled over me as I stood. I didn't shake, quiver or look around. I walked calmly to the chair, sat down, crossed my legs and put my hands on my knees. My shoes were still burning slightly, and Nero seemed distracted by them for a moment.

"So," he began. "Primrose Everdeen Mallark. It's a pretty heavy name you bear. Would you mind telling the audiences who might be too young to remember, where did you get those names?"

"Ah," I said. I had been worried my voice would be rough but it came out easily and smoothly, encouraging me to continue. "Well, my parents are Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mallark, who won the 74th annual Hunger Games. My mom was actually a volunteer, she volunteered when her younger sister Primrose was called to play. Prim was only twelve at the time."

"So you and your aunt have the same name? That must get confusing around the house!" he declared.

I hesitated. Was it possible they didn't know? Of course it was...

"Prim died," I said. I waited for a while for it to sink in. "She died at the very end of the Rebellion, she was only around thirteen or so. Mom doesn't talk about it, neither does Dad. What I heard from others in District Twelve was that the Capitol blew her up, her and all the other first responders..."

Everything was completely silent. I realized then that no one would have known about Prim's death, and the Capitol had been in love with Mom's little sister. The faces of the crowd varied; those old enough to remember Prim had various states of confusion, sadness and anger on their faces, but those too young to remember looked mildly surprised and indifferent.

It was interesting to see the Capitol divided into those who could remember the war and those who were untouched by its presence.

"Oh," Nero said, after a long pause. "I see. Well, I express my condolences to Katniss."

I bit my tongue on my reply, trying to keep it to myself. _She doesn't give a damn about yours or anyone else's condolences. _

"It was a long time ago," I replied quietly.

"Anyway, Primrose -" he began, and I cut him off.

"Primrose was my aunt, I go by Rosa," I said quickly.

"Ah, I see, Rosa. I think something we're all dying to know is how you feel with your brother being here, too," Nero continued. "We heard from the Benson twins, who said they were going to work together and if one of them got killed off, then that would decide. What about you?"

"It's not going to be a question of which one of us gets home," I said.

"So does that mean you are willing to kill him to get home?" Nero asked, looking entirely shocked.

"No," I said, shaking my head. "It means I'm willing to kill myself to get him home."

The audience started roaring and I looked at them, suddenly embarrassed. I glanced down at my toes, which were still flaming, and felt my face flush bright red. I hoped they had put on enough make up to disguise my blush, but I knew that they hadn't.

"I see," Nero murmured, sitting back in his chair. "Do you have a plan?"

"I'm going to stay with him, keep him alive, and sacrifice whatever I have to to get him as far as I can. If it ends up with just the two of us, he doesn't get an option. I have to keep him alive, Mom and Dad can't lose both of us. They just can't." I shook my head emphatically.

"What if you die, and he lives," Nero began, "but he is called back next year?"

I felt the shock wash over me then.

"He can get called back?" I said emptily. All the muscles in my face went slack and I was glad I wasn't standing, or else I would have fallen down.

"There isn't immunity in these games," Nero said, realizing that I hadn't known that. "You can get called back as long as you are of age."

"But... would his name get put in as many times?" I asked slowly, looking up at Nero with horror on my face.

"Yes," Nero said, nodding solemnly.

"Then..." I trailed off, not sure how to continue. "Then hopefully he'll know how to keep himself safe, he'll be trained and he'll know what to expect. He'll be able to make it."

"So you are going to sacrifice yourself? Is there any chance at all you will be the victor?" Nero said. I knew I was probably losing sponsors right now, but there was no point in lying. I knew he was trying to help, but...

"There is no chance I am going to be back here," I said, shaking my head. "But that's alright. I knew it was a risk I would have to face." I squared my shoulder and my chin took on a determined set, showing that I was going to be strong anyway.

A small bell rang out, and I knew my time was up.

"Well, it was lovely to speak to you, Rosa," Nero said, looking up at me solemnly. "And I am sad that there is no chance to have you back in that chair."

"Me too," I said quietly, getting to my feet. I wasn't as strong or as confident now, and I knew my knees were shaking slightly as I walked back to my seat. My mind was still reeling... _Ash wouldn't be safe if I got him out?_

I sat down numbly, and Nero called Ash's name. Ash rose awkwardly and walked up to Nero, then sat down to answer Nero's questions.

"Ash Everdeen Mallark," Nero said. "Your parents have a thing for naming you after plants, don't they?"

Ash laughed uneasily, "Well, it was really my grandparents' thing. They named their kids Primrose and Katniss, after all, both of which are plants. And then of course they named Rosa Primrose again, and they named me after a tree. Dad really wanted to name me Rye but Mom was the more bossy of the two, so she got her way."

Nero laughed, "I can imagine that. I wasn't very old when she was in the games, but she sure seemed stubborn. That's probably the main thing I remember about her."

"Yeah, she sure does like to get her way," Ash admitted, smiling just enough to show off his dimples.

"So, Ash, your sister says you are going to get out alive even if she dies in the process," Nero said, suddenly becoming serious.

Ash looked down at his hands, picking at his finger nails. "Yeah."

"What are your thoughts?" Nero prodded gently.

When Ash looked up, I saw his eyes were shining with tears. I felt a surge of pride as not a single one of those tears rolled down his cheeks, and I knew he was strong enough... He'd be alright.

"I wish there was a way for both of us to get out," Ash said quietly. "It's not fair. But I'm small, I'm young, and if the two of us are really working together she has a better chance. She's trained, she's wicked good with a bow and knives and she's strong and she's tough as nails, and I know with her by my side at least one of us is getting out, even if it isn't me because if I die first, she better go on. She better get home to Mom and Dad, because Baby Blue needs an older sibling once she gets old enough..."

"Baby Blue?" Nero cut in, looking at him quizzically.

"Oh, yeah." Ash nodded at Nero and continued, "Baby Blue is our little sister. Blue Bell, she's about three right now and she's getting big, she's talking in complete sentences now."

I cracked a smile. Ash had been completely stunned to watch Baby Blue go from little words to phrases to whole sentences, and he had thought it was the coolest thing in the world that a tiny little ball of snot and poop could grow up into a speaking, gurgling toddler. He never had quite gotten over it, even though she had mastered the art of complete sentences over a year ago.

"I didn't know you had another sister," Nero said. For a moment, I thought I saw a flash of sadness, or perhaps pity in Nero's eyes. But then it was gone before I could be sure I had seen it, so I dismissed it and continued watching.

"Yeah," Ash said, nodding quickly. "And considering I think the number of times her name is gonna be put in is gonna be as bad as mine and Rosa's, she's probably going to come too once she gets old enough and one of us is going to need to be around to mentor her, and help her."

"Alright, Ash," Nero said, his voice changing tone and becoming a bit lighter. "As much as we love hearing about your family -" the audience chimed in with a _yeah! _that sounded almost like a _yay!, _but I wasn't sure, "- let's hear about you. We've had artists and dancers and mathematicians and athletes and bakers come across this stage tonight, but what about you? What are you good at?"

"Oh, uh... um... well," Ash hesitated, rolling his eyes upwards to think. "My favorite thing is to learn how to do new things. I like to learn something just until I'm good enough at it to say I can do it, and then I move on to the next thing. I've drawn stuff like my dad, and I did archery for a bit too, and I played piano once we got one in District Twelve. But the thing I liked best out of all the things I've ever done was to sing."

Oh gods, not this. Sweet baby Jesus, Ash, why did you mention the singing... I buried my face in my hands, flushing with sympathetic embarrassment for him. I mean, he was fine as a singer, he was in a little choir and whatnot back home, but... really? Singing was SO not the skill he should have emphasized if he wanted to get sponsors who were betting on him to murder a bunch of other people in an arena.

"Really? Sing?" Nero said. "Would you sing us a line or two, perhaps?"

"Uhm, sure..." Ash paused, searching for the words, but before he could start the little bell chimed signaling the end of his interview.

Saved by the bell.

"Well, perhaps another time, then," Nero said. "In the arena perhaps?"

"Maybe," Ash said, standing and returning to his seat. John walked up to the chair, and I relaxed.

We had survived the interviews.


	13. Chapter 13

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**So sad.**

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><p>That night I slept on a full stomach, in a comfortable bed and in silken PJ's, and it was one of the best night's sleep I had ever had. I hadn't slept well since the reaping, so I suppose the exhaustion finally caught up with me. Or maybe I was just relaxed because all the stressful social niceties were over, and I would only be judged on my ability to fight from here on out.<p>

I woke up to Aelia knocking on the door, saying it was time to get "up, up, UP!", and I just groaned and rolled over in my bed. After a few minutes I did get up, though, and went to the closet to find an acceptable outfit for the day.

There was only one outfit in the closet, and it was hanging from the door. It was a simple, black, skin-tight black training uniform with the number twelve written in gold thread on the left side of my chest, with a belt going over my hips for no apparent reason aside from decoration.

Well, it could be worse – it could have been one of Aelia's outfits, and then I would probably die of embarrassment.

I pulled my freshly dyed fiery curls into a ponytail and glanced at myself in the mirror. I didn't look quite as not-me as last night, but there was still a certain otherworldly quality about my eyes, which was probably just because they were such a bright blue while my hair was so incredibly orange. I straightened the necklace that Dad had made me, and brushed a stray yellow curl out of my eyes.

Today, we weren't really supposed to train. The uniform was just for looks, I knew that, but I couldn't help but wish we started training today. All we were supposed to do was go on a tour of the Capitol for the next three days, featuring in various parties with our symbols and our uniforms, trying to get sponsors. We didn't start training until after then, and then it was a week solid of training, one day of relaxing and then we went into the arena.

That meant we had eleven days until I was supposed to kill most of the inhabitants of the building I was sleeping in, and I couldn't say I was looking forward to it, but I did want to get this out of the way.

I took a deep breath, looked at myself in the mirror one more time, and then I went outside. John walked with me to the breakfast table, not entirely sure of himself while standing next to me.

"It's brave," he said after a long silence.

"What?" I asked, not sure what he meant.

"What you're doing for your brother," John said, glancing down at his toes. "I wish I had someone who cared that much about me."

"Oh," I replied, unsure of how to react. It was how Mom had raised me, to always take care of your siblings because you never know when they'll be gone.

"I want you to know that I'm not going to hurt him," John said, setting his jaw and meeting my gaze. "Or you. I can't say that I'm not going to kill anyone, I think I will under pressure but I'm not going to hurt either of you, I know you too well."

"Oh, uh... ah... thanks." Now it was my turn to look down, awkward and embarrassed.

"Well... yeah," John said, just as awkward, and then he sat down on the other side of the table and began serving himself breakfast. Suddenly, I found myself not particularly hungry and instead I just stared at the food.

Naevius sat down next to me, and served himself some strips of bacon.

"Where's Hadriana?" Ash asked, glancing around.

"She's still sick," Naevius said, worry furrowing his brow slightly. "She's getting worse, I think, but doesn't want to see a doctor. Don't worry, she should be better in a week."

"Oh,"Ash said, returning to his own plate.

"You did well in the interviews." Naevius glanced at me, scooping some eggs into his mouth. "You captured everyone's attention, the whole Capitol remembers you now."

"Oh, cool," I said, distracting myself by grabbing a piece of toast and nibbling around the edges.

"I've already got six people lining up to sponsor you, you know," Naevius continued after he finished his bite of eggs, "You brought some drama to the screen, and that's what everyone likes in the games."

I remembered Mom telling me about how it was her dramatic relationship with Peeta that got them the sponsors required to win the games, and I nodded.

"Make sure you keep up that fire while going around town today," Naevius added, and I realized with disappointment that the stressful social niceties were not over.

I nodded again, and waited for the others to finish breakfast. After what seemed like an eternity, it was time to go downstairs. We piled into the elevator and went down through the levels of the building; eleven, ten, nine, eight... two, one. I stepped out of the elevator, brushing that one stray strand of hair out of my eyes again, and looked around.

"You are going to be in groups of thirteen while going around the city," Aelia began, clapping her hands together. "Because everyone wants to meet someone from each district, so that is how it's being divided up!"

We were ushered around in no particular order, and to my dismay I ended up standing next to Ty Hawthorne on the far side of the room, waiting to go tour the Capitol.

"Hey," he elbowed me gently in the ribs, and I took a step further away from him. "So, we're allies and stuff."

"I suppose," I acknowledged, without looking him in the eyes.

"Oh, come on, Rosa," he said, laughing brightly. I shot him a look. "We're allies, you could at least look me in the eye, mate."

I turned slowly and looked up into his face. He was smiling a lopsided sort of smile and his dark hair was pushed back behind his ears, but it was too short and kept falling into his eyes. He was much taller than I'd realized, so there was no uncertainty as to whether I was looking up at him or not – I was definitely looking up.

"We are going into an arena to fight to the death," I said, my tone clipped and cold. "Pardon me if I don't want to get close, personal and friendly with you or anyone for that matter."

"Well, you're going to have to get over that if you want anyone to sponsor you," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. "They like friendly people."

"I don't need to be friendly with other tributes right before killing them, though. I think it would be kind of rude and two-faced to be making jokes with them one minute and then stabbing them through their throats the next, don't you?"

"Well someone's feeling icy today," Ty said, the smile finally disappearing from his face. When it did, I felt guilty for being the one to take it away... He was doing his best to stay positive, and I wasn't really helping.

"Sorry," I sighed. "Just a little edgy, I didn't mean to be that rude."

"Don't worry," he said, some of the smile returning to his face. "It's pretty understandable."

I glanced around the little group that was gathering there. We had Dianna from District One, Ty from District Two, and a boy from three and a girl from four. We had Kiki, the little girl from five, some guy from six, Mirabella from seven, the bigger of the two guys from eight, a guy from nine, one of the Benson twins from ten, a boy from eleven, me, and then the twelve year old girl from thirteen. All together, not too bad a group, at least I knew some of their names...

"Hi," Dianna said awkwardly, waving at Ty and I.

"Hey, Dianna, right?" I asked, reaching out a hand to shake. She hesitated, but shook my outstretched hand anyway. She had pale blonde hair and a healthy glow to her skin, but what struck me most were her eyes. They were slightly different shades of blue, her left being lighter than the other and without a pupil, and I remembered that she was blind in one eye.

"Yeah," she said.

"So, District One... does that mean you're a Career?" Ty joked.

"You're from District Two, what does that make you?" Dianna replied smoothly, flickering those unnerving blue eyes up at Ty. I realized with a start that I had assumed being blind in one eye would put Dianna at a disadvantage, but she had a benefit the rest of us didn't... unnerving the enemy. If I wanted to distract the enemy, I was going to have to flash them or something, all she had to do was watch them.

And so Dianna and Ty went back and forth easily, and I found myself studying her. She was pretty enough, with a heart-shaped face and blonde hair, tan skin and blue eyes, not too skinny or too fat and she had lean muscles coiling around her arms as though she would be good with heavier weaponry, like an ax. She was calm but there was a tenseness in her shoulders and a slight bend to her knees as though she was prepared to spring away at the slightest sign of trouble, but what was the most interesting thing about her posture was in her facial expression... it was obvious that she didn't want to be here.

Most people from District One, Two and Four seemed to be Carreers. With the exception of Ty and maybe the other girl from One, none of them had been too terrified. On some level, they had been eager. They had been strong and confident in their interviews, and they seemed as though they might actually enjoy what they were getting into. Dianna was different...

"Rosa?" Ty said, dragging me back to the real world.

"Hmm?" I asked, glancing up at him.

"You know we're supposed to be going, right?"

I glanced around and realized that aside from Dianna, Ty and I, we were standing alone. Kiki was skipping ahead of us and went around a corner, so we followed her and saw everyone piling into a bus. The bus was crisp and clean and metallic, and inside there were fourteen seats and a drivers seat, all of which were plush chairs with no seat belts. Ty, Dianna and I took three of the four seats left, which were in the very back of the bus.

A woman from the Capitol popped her head into the bus. "Is this Group Two? The one with Dianna Janson, Ty Hawthorne..."

"Yeah!" Ty said loudly, waving his hand from the back. The woman stopped reading off the list of names, pushed her spectacles up on the bridge of her nose and took the fourteenth seat at the front of the bus. A man in simpler clothes than the woman walked onto the bus and sat down in the drivers seat.

"First, we are going to drive by the government buildings. Then, we are going to join President Snow's granddaughter for tea, and then..."

The woman continued, but I tuned her out.

It was going to be a very, very long day.


	14. Chapter 14

**Reviews make me so happy, but for once I have a legitimate need for you to review. In each chapter, I am going to introduce four new characters and you have to vote one of them dead. MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!**

The ride was tiring, but it did give me an opportunity to get to know my opponents. Dianna was in the seat to my right and Ty was in the seat in front of her, but in front of me and next to Ty was the boy from District Nine.

He was an awkward sort of bloke, average height and a little on the skinny side, particularly when sitting next to Ty's broad shoulders. He wasn't the most confident kid on the bus but nor was he the biggest underdog, but instead he was a completely unremarkable middleman. He had messy brown hair that was too short to stay out of his eyes but too long to tuck behind his ears, so he was constantly brushing it out of his brown eyes.

He tried to make conversation with the one in front of him first, who ended up being a Career from District Four, so he was shot down immediately. He sat quietly, his face red at his failed attempt to make friends, and he fiddled with his fingers. After a few minutes, he glanced around, ready to try to socialize again and his eyes fell on me.

"Uh, hi," he said, waving at me. He smiled but it was a shy, guarded smile as though he was worried I would be as rude as the Career from Four, but I just smiled back.

"Hi, I'm Rosa," I said, reaching out my hand to shake his. He looked surprised at my kindness and I noticed that Ty did, too.

"I know. I'm Thomas." He broke eye contact shyly and shookaking my hand.

"It's nice to meet you, Thomas," I said, trying to keep my voice gentle. The only thing going through my head, though, was that in a few weeks this kid would be dead. It made me feel unsettled, as though I was talking to a ghost. "You're from Nine, right?"

"Yeah," Thomas said, looking up again as though he was surprised I remembered him. "My Dad's a farmer from there, and Mom died in the war."

"Really?" Dianna stepped into the conversation. "My parents died in the most recent war, too."

"Yeah... sucks, doesn't it?" Thomas asked, fidgeting a little in his seat.

"So," I said. "Does that mean you're good with a hoe, Thomas?" Ty snickered and I shot him a glare, and Thomas turned bright red. I really should think about what I'm saying more...

"Like, spades and stuff? For a weapon?" Thomas clarified, looking incredibly embarrassed. "I suppose."

We went by the government buildings and just continued talking, never looking outside the bus. It was like our own form of rebellion, a peaceful rebellion until we died. I could see it was grating on the Capitol woman's nerves, but I didn't really care.

It turned out that Thomas was the oldest of seven, and he was eighteen, the youngest was fourteen, and his mother had died five years ago. He had helped his dad along with his two seventeen year old brothers, who were twins, and between the four of them they managed to put the younger four children through school. When they were at their poorest, he rescued a tiny puppy from a ditch even though they didn't have money to pay for it, and gave it to his little sister to take care of just so that she would smile.

He said that his youngest brother, who was fifteen, had been reaped, and he had volunteered to take his place.

"He's smart, he's got a bright future," Thomas said, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "More than me, I'm just going to farm... or I was... he could be a doctor or anything he wants to."

"I understand sacrificing yourself for your little brother," I said quietly, putting my hand on his arm.

He nodded, but he didn't talk anymore. He swallowed roughly, trying to keep pent up emotions inside, and I couldn't help but feel horrible for him.

I realized I wasn't the only one here fighting for their family.

President Snow's granddaughter met us when the bus rolled to a stop, and we filed out of the vehicle one by one. She introduced herself as Layla Snow, and she had a younger face than I had imagined. She was in her thirties now, but she hardly looked much older than myself. The only thing to betray her age was the dignity with which she walked and the elegance of her dress.

I remembered Mom had told me that they wanted to lock Ms. Snow away in a Hunger Games meant for the Capitol. Mom had shot the leader of the Rebellion, though, and so the game at the Capitol never came to be and no one knew about the plans except for those who had made the decision in the first place. Looking at her now, I knew mercy had been a mistake.

Her eyes were cold and she had no compassion in her eyes for us, and as she led us inside her house I glanced around at all the cameras. This was obviously for publicity, not because she wanted to wish us luck.

We entered her room for tea and fourteen chairs were arranged evenly around a large, low-lying table. Thirteen of the chairs were in a semi-circle ending half way around the table, and the fourteenth chair was propped on the other side so that its occupant could see the rest of the chairs with ease. Ms. Snow took that chair and so I glanced at the other thirteen. They all had numbers on them, one through thirteen, and I sat uneasily in the one labeled twelve.

The boy from eleven sat to my right, and the little girl from thirteen was at my left. I sat awkwardly between the two, keeping my elbows as close to myself as I could, trying to avoid touching either of them accidentally.

"Hi," I said, glancing back and forth between the two. The little girl looked up at me with surprise and terror in her face, and then quickly looked back down at her lap. The boy didn't even look at me... He probably assumed I was talking to the girl.

"What's your name?" I tried again, looking at the little girl.

"Uh... um... uh..." the girl stuttered. Her eyes were wide, showing off light brown irises, and twists of auburn hair hung around her face that matched her eyes. "It's Wind."

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Wind," I said. "I'm Rosa, by the way."

"Yeah," she said, glancing down at her toes and gratefully taking a cup of tea from a server.

"For the record," the boy next to me said quietly, and I looked up at him in surprise. "Victors are supposed to get immunity. It's what they had said a while ago, you know."

"Sorry?" I asked, blinking.

""The victors still get immunity from the games. Happy Graveyard Games, and may the odds be __ever__ in your favor"," he quoted. He glanced at me again. "I have a perfect memory, I remember everything that is said and done..."

"Oh, cool," I replied, uncertain of what someone was supposed to say in such circumstances. "Then why did Nero say that the winner could be reaped again?"

"I don't know," the boy shrugged. "I can only tell you what I heard. I'm Thray, by the way."

"I'm Rosa," I replied.

"I know," he said simply. "I remember." He seemed completely serious but then a smile cracked his face, and I realized he was making a joke.

Oh. Jokes.

I had heard those before...

I rewarded him with a smile, and glanced up as Ms. Snow began talking. "Please, feast. Tell me about yourselves."

And so we went around the circle, saying our names. Of course, it was fairly simple. Dianna, Ty, the District Three boy whose name escaped me once more. I paid attention to the girl from four who had been so rude to Thomas before, noting her as a threat. She was definitely a career.

Her name was Maris, and when she glanced up at me a chill raced down her spine. I knew that that girl was cold blooded. Her eyes were dead and stony and her face was completely emotionless, which was terrifying in and of itself.

After introducing ourselves, Ms. Snow really didn't want anything to do with us. Servers passed around biscuits and more tea, making sure that we had whatever pastries we wanted.

The little girl next to me, Wind, told me about her little brother back home named Martin who was six and how her mothers had adopted her when she was younger. She told me that her birth parents had given her to her mothers because her mothers loved her so much that they wanted her to be all their own, and that they picked her out of all the other kids.

I found it adorable and sad all at once, because I recognized that her brother had been born at the same time that the war had begun. It meant her family had probably died and she had been orphaned. I was just glad that the girl had been adopted by two wonderful women, and she told me happily about her mothers around a bite of cake.

"How do they know which one you're talking to?" Thray asked, leaning forward so that he could see Wind around me. "If they're both Mom, how do they know?"

"They're not both Mom," Wind said, her voice adopting a _duh _sort of tone. "I have Mom and Mama, that's their names."

"Ah, I see," Thray said with a thoughtful look. "Makes enough sense." He sat back in his chair and took another bite of biscuit.

"I can't wait to get out of here," I grumbled under my breath. "This room is stifling."

"I know, right?" Thray said. "It's almost as bad as the basement back home."

"Basement?" Wind asked. "Cool! We have a basement, but that's all we have, a basement without a house."

"Well, we rent out a basement," Thray said. "The Bakers actually own the house, but the let my mom, my dad, my older sister and my little brother and I live in their basement if we pay rent. We didn't ever have enough money for our own place, but if I win I think that'll change. Maybe then I'll be able to buy my brother a violin like he's been asking for for the past four years. Since he could talk, really."

"Alright, we're out of tea and I think it's time for you to move on to your next stop," Ms. Snow cut into the small conversations whirring around the room. "Don't be late!" I could see that she was anxious for us to leave, and frankly I was anxious to get out. We left quickly, and returned to the bus.

One stop down, and only about three dozen more to go.

**Alright, so vote for one to die. Your least favorite, who you would like to see die first. The four characters that were introduced were: Thomas, Wind, Maris, and Thray.**


	15. Chapter 15

**This time Imma do something a little different. Vote for your favorite one, the one you want to stay the most. **

And of course, there was no doubt in my mind that every stop was the same. And, mostly, it was. There was some variation here and there, where we would go to a party or where we'd be on our feet or where we'd see a park or whatever.

The day seemed to repeat itself for two more days, and I found myself looking forward to the training more and more. I knew that the training would just get me closer to killing the people that I was making friends with, but at the same time I desperately wanted out of these ridiculous social gatherings.

Over those three days of socializing, I came to one decision: I _hated _people. Particularly those ridiculous, blithering idjits who had decided to throw me into an arena with other kids.

Over those three days, I got to meet each and every one of the people in my group of 13, and I got to know them very well. Every single one of them was so human that it hurt, every single one of them had a history and a family and a life, and a reason to get home. Even Maris, the career, opened up on the third day and told me her father had beaten her as a child, and she wanted to win to rub it in his face.

When the training finally came around, though, I realized I didn't want to do it at all. I had gotten to know these PEOPLE – not tributes, people – and the thought of any of them having to die pulled on all my emotional strings. That was the first time that I ever wondered if I was actually strong enough to kill anyone.

Of course, I would kill someone. Now as I'm looking back on everything that happened, I know that I am actually a horrible person. I'm the kind of person that can slice throats and run people through with arrows and spears and not feel regret until weeks later. I'm the kind of person that can kill in a blind rage and leave the bodies there to rot. I'm the kind of person that should be in a jail, in an asylum, in a coffin. But I'm getting ahead of myself, so let me get back to where I was...

That was the first time I ever wondered, but it wouldn't be the last.

Our final party was probably the most exciting. We finally weren't in isolated groups anymore, but rather all 52 tributes came together in one last sophisticated herrah, which would be broadcast throughout Panem.

I remember the champagne in my glass rippling with the tremors of my fingers. I found myself wanting to cling to that night for eternity, not wanting to go on to the next day, not wanting to have to train with these people, not wanting to look them in the eye as I practiced killing them.

I downed my champagne in a single gulp, seeking the solace of alcohol to calm my frayed nerves.

"Rosa!" a voice behind me called, and someone placed a hand on my shoulder. I flinched and dropped my glass. It shattered, sending a few shards of glass into my feet.

"God dammit," I growled, seeing the blood trickle down my feet.

"Oh, god! What did you do?!" Ty said, stepping around me. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"Don't worry about it," I sighed. "Once you get the glass out it doesn't take long to heal anyway, they close up pretty fast."

"Here, sit down," he said, pulling a chair up for me to sit on. I smiled half-heartedly and sat down, examining the shards of glass half way through my foot.

"Would you mind getting me some tweezers and some bandages?" I asked, looking up at him. Pulling glass out of my feet was nothing new to me. It was a hazard of running barefoot in District 12, which I did frequently... shoes were awful.

"Bandages? I think you're going to need stitches, Rosa," he said, kneeling down to squint at the cuts in the flashing party-lights.

"It'll be fine, I promise," I said, unable to keep a chuckle from my voice. He nodded and waved at Dianna, beckoning her over to me.

"Hey, could you make sure she doesn't try to walk on that while I go get bandages and stuff?" he asked her, pointing to my feet.

"Oh God, Rosa, what happened?" she asked. My feet were slick with blood now, but I'm pretty sure that was just because the glass prevented the cuts from closing.

"I dropped my glass," I said sheepishly.

"Just watch her, OK?" Ty said, and disappeared into the crowd.

"You dropped your glass..." Dianna repeated, pulling a chair up next to me. "Smooth."

"Shut up."

"No, I mean it," Dianna said earnestly. "It was smooth. About as smooth as sandpaper."

I reached out and punched her arm, and she laughed at me. "Fuck you," I grumbled, lifting my feet up onto a chair so I could see better.

"With pleasure," she said sarcastically, bowing in her seat.

"Oh, god, is that blood?" a new voice asked. I glanced up to see a handsome bloke from District Three looking down at my feet.

"Yeah, I just dropped my glass, no biggie," I said, shrugging it off. Although now, admittedly, my feet were starting to hurt and a couple drops of blood had hit the marble floors.

"Is someone getting bandages or something?" he asked, standing in front of me uneasily.

"Yeah." I nodded. "He should be back any minute now."

"Hey, you're Rosa, right? The girl from Twelve?" the boy asked, reaching out his hand.

"Yeah," I said, suddenly embarrassed that I still hadn't bothered to learn everyone's names.

"I'm Cir," he said, sensing my uncertainty. I smiled and shook his hand.

"Nice to meet you, Cir," I said. "Is that short for something?"

"... Circuit. But please, don't call me that. It is literally the most awful name on the face of the planet." I laughed and Dianna put a hand to her mouth, covering a giggle. He glanced up at her when she made a noise, and extended his hand to her as well.

"And you're..."

"Dianna," she said, smiling sheepishly. She reached out to shake his hand but with a swift (and very smooth) movement, he turned her hand and lifted it to his lips, kissing it gently.

"Beautiful name. Fit for a princess," he said, giving her a smile. Even though the lighting was dim, I could see Dianna's face flush bright red. _Damn. He's smooth. He must've gotten laid a lot back home..._

She wasn't sure how to reply, but luckily she was saved by Ty's return.

"OK so I wasn't sure what to get, so I got everything," he said. A man stood behind him with his arms full of random medical equipment, and I buried my face in my hands.

"I promise, all I need is some tweezers and gauze or something, it's not that bad. Once I take the glass out it'll just look like a needle prick..."

"Dude, there is literally a puddle on the ground," Ty cut me off.

"It's like three drops! Preschoolers get worse than that when they fall and scrape their knees!"

"Yeah and then they go and get stitches," Ty said. "Shut up." He took some tweezers from the pile of supplies in the other man's arms.

"I agree with Rosa, it shouldn't be that bad," the boy from Three, Cir, said. Ty looked up as though he noticed him for the first time.

"And who are you?" he demanded.

"Cir," the boy from Three said, giving a mock bow.

"Sir what? Sir knows-a-lot?" Ty said, scowling a bit.

"That's actually my brother," Cir said, his eyes sparkling with laughter.

"Are you really gonna mock me before we're put in an arena to fight to the death?" Ty said, his chest puffing up with irritation. "I might not be allowed to kill her, but I'm pretty sure that's my only real limitation."

"Ty, play nice," Dianna chided. "We're all in this together."

"Sure we are," Ty said, turning his attention back to the tweezers in hand and he reached for my feet.

"Oh hell no," I said, terrified of the thought of an angry Ty pulling shards of sharp glass from my feet. "Give me those."

"Oh be quiet, Rosa," he said, reaching out to hold my ankle still. He was surprisingly gentle but firm, and he clasped the tweezers around the first shard of glass. He pulled it out quickly but I hardly felt it, and then he reached out for a piece of gauze from the man behind him. He put the little piece of glass on the gauze, and went back for the last two. The man behind him gave him some gauze that smelled heavily of alcohol and dabbed the blood off my feet.

Almost immediately after the glass was out the blood flow came to a halt, closing up the tiny little cuts until they were almost nonexistent.

"You should really tell your stylist to give you closed-toed shoes and not these little lacing things," he said, looking up at me. I was struck my how pale his eyes were, and how a dark ring around them made them so defined. It was like they were cutting through the darkness straight to me.

"I know," I said, my heart beating faster for some unknown reason.

He gently grabbed the gauze with the bloody glass on it and picked up the shards of my champagne glass, and tossed it into a near-by trashcan. The man with the medical supplies took this as an opportunity to dab some glue onto the cuts, sealing them permanently closed, and then he put some self-adhesive bandages on top.

"Thanks," I said, timidly putting my feet back on the ground. "See? Told you it wasn't so bad." Ty just arched an eyebrow at me.

"Whatever you say," he said, rolling his eyes.

"No, really! It happened all the time back in District 12."

He ignored me. "Hey, where did Dianna and that Cir guy go?"

At that instant, Cir appeared in the crowd, holding his hand to his face. A bright red handprint peeked through his fingers.

"That'll teach you to be so god damn touchy-feely!" Dianna's voice followed him, and he just grimaced, disappearing into another group of people. I couldn't help but smile.

"Well," I said. "I don't really feel like dancing much anymore."

"You should probably go back and rest," Dianna said, rearranging her dress. "There's gonna be a lot of training tomorrow."

"So I'm guessing Cir didn't get lucky?"

"Ha! How about no," Dianna said, shaking her head emphatically.

"Actually, heading back early sounds pretty good," Ty said.

"Sure," Dianna said, shrugging. I nodded and got to my feet. Ty reached out to hold my shoulder steady and I slapped his hand away, causing his ever-present grin to return.

We headed for the door when I felt a small hand tug at my skirt.

"Excuse me, miss?" a little voice said, and I looked down. One of the little boys from District 13 was looking up at me with wide eyes. "Are you guys going back?"

"Yes," I said, nodding.

"Could we come, too? We're getting really tired," he said, rubbing at his eyes and trying to cover a yawn.

"And none of us know how to get back," another voice piped in. I looked up and saw Wind, Kiki, and two more children I didn't know by name but I knew they were the others from Thirteen.

"Sure, you can walk with us," I said. "Let's go ahead and get out of here, that music is giving me a headache."

We stepped outside and the cool night air of the city wrapped around us, making me shiver slightly even though I wasn't particularly cold.

"Hurry up, Kiki!" the older girl from Thirteen yelled, and Kiki ran out of the building, teetering down the steps.

"I'm coming, I'm coming! I have little legs!" she yelled back.

All of the kids, except for the older girl from 13, were only 12. Unfortunately, all of them seemed too small for that age; the children from thirteen were underfed and so they only came up to about my ribcage with the tallest of them coming almost to my shoulder. Kiki looked well-fed enough, but she was still the smallest of the group.

"So, why are you guys heading back early? Just tired?" Dianna asked, trying to make conversation with the little ones as we started walking back home (was home really the right word? No, it wasn't – I suppose I should give it a name. The Center, perhaps?).

"Yeah," Kiki nodded, yawning. The yawn set off a chain reaction, causing everyone else to yawn, too, and making some of the other little ones giggle.

"Are you guys looking forward to training tomorrow?" Ty asked.

"No!" Kiki declared. "My mum always said I was too little to use any of the tools at home and now they want me to learn how to use a sword? They gotta be crazy!"

"How old are you?" Dianna asked, curious.

"She's twelve," I said quickly.

"Yeah," Kiki said, nodding. "I turned twelve two days before the reaping."

"I turned twelve three weeks before the reaping!" the little boy who had tugged at my dress said, a grin on his face. "I'm older than you!"

"Yeah, well I turned twelve eleven months before the reaping," the other boy said, puffing his chest up with pride.

I grinned, but it was a sad sort of grin; the sad grin that came because I knew these kids would not live to see their thirteenth birthday, so it wouldn't matter much anyway. "What are your names?" I asked, trying to get off the subject of birthdays.

"I'm Hawk," the older boy said, and then proceeded to flap his arms and run around the street pretending to be a bird.

"I'm Fillie," the little boy who tugged at my dress declared. "Short for feline – GRRRRR!"

"My name's coolest," the thirteen year old girl said. She crossed her arms over her chest as though she was the mature older sister of the bunch. "Chrysanthemum. Most people call me Chryssie, though."

"Well, it's lovely to meet the lot of you," I said. "I hope the odds are _ever _in your favor."

The building for the Center reared up in front of us and I paused, feeling the ache in my feet. The children scampered up the step in front of us and disappeared into the building and I found myself suddenly very sad, and very tired. I didn't want to have to face the prospect that those kids were going to die. In fact, as they disappeared into the building, the lights played a trick on my eyes and it was as if they were already dead, and their ghosts stepped through the doors.

**So vote for your favorite: Hawk, Fillie, Chryssie, or Cir.**


	16. Chapter 16

**Um... anyone gonna review? I'll pose the question one more time... who is your favorite character, the one you want to see live longest? Cir, Fillie, Chryssie, or Hawk?**

"Hey, Rosa," someone called, and I glanced up. The morning light filtered through the windows and gave Ty a sort of halo as he jogged over to me. "How're your feet?"

"Hmm?" I asked, and then remembered the night before. "Oh, fine. Nothing a good shower couldn't fix."

"That's good," he said, grinning. "I'll try not to sneak up on you again, or you might die or something."

I just rolled my eyes and crossed my arms over my chest. "You better watch yourself, Hawthorn. I might be the one surprising you next time."

He raised his hands in mock-fear, with wide eyes. "I'm terrified."

"Will you guys shut up?" Dianna called from the other side of the room. We were in the entry hall to the Center, and all 52 tributes were waiting there in anticipation to see how we were going to spend our next week. Apparently over eight floors sprawled below us of various different rooms; perhaps some were training rooms, but we had no idea what the rest of them were for.

"Oh, look," Ty said, putting a hand over his eyes and squinting past Dianna. "It looks like they're getting ready to take us down to the training rooms." I followed his gaze and saw a group of Capitol citizens in surprisingly un-Capitol-like clothing pushing through the glass doors that connected us with the outside world.

"Hey, Ash," I called out, glancing around for the blonde head that belonged to my brother.

"Yeah, Rosa?" his voice came from behind me. I glanced over my shoulder to see him, Fillie and Hawk standing together.

"Stay close to me, alright? I don't want you getting too close to some of these people," I said.

"Alright, can Fillie and Hawk stay with us, too?" he asked, grey eyes wide and innocent.

I glanced at the boys. They were the only other boys that were in Ash's same year and I knew that Ash and Hawk had been in the same touring group over the previous days, which resulted in the two of them becoming friends. I was tempted to say no, because I knew it would be a bad decision to encourage their friendship, but I realized that would be terribly hypocritical – I had no intention of avoiding Ty, Dianna, Thray or Thomas.

"Um, sure," I said, and the boys highfived (which was pretty comical to watch, actually, because three people highfiving all at once is somewhat difficult to do).

"Hurry up, Rosa," Ty said, and I turned and started walking towards where the Capitol citizens were training. Once everyone stood close to them, a man with an oddly trimmed beard stepped forwards.

"We are the trainers who will be working with you for the next week," the man said. His voice was low and rumbling, and his eyes flicked over each of us without a hint of emotion in them. "We will teach you how to fight and survive in any conditions. I am Varius, Head Trainer. I will be overseeing the entirety of the events over the next few days."

A slender but strong woman stepped forward then. She was very plain by Capitol standards; she hadn't a trace of make up on her face and her completely ordinary brown hair lay straight and flat going down her back. "I am Marina. I am the cardiac trainer, and I will work with you on drills, endurance tests and running exercises." She stepped back, and another woman stepped forward.

This woman was taller but thinner, without the well-formed muscles that Marina had. "I am Iulia, the botanist trainer. I will work with you on identifying various forms of plant life, and learning what purpose each plant serves."

A man stepped forward as Iulia stepped back. "I am Marcus, weapon's master. I will oversee all weaponry training."

"I am Horatius," a thinner boy said, not stepping forward. "I am the knife trainer."

"I'm Laelia," a girl said, staying where she stood as well. "I am the archery trainer."

And so they continued introducing themselves; a sword trainer, a hand-to-hand combat trainer, a spear-throwing trainer; a trapping trainer, a basic survival trainer, a medical trainer... honestly, their names just started going over my head around that point.

After what seemed like an eternity, the trainers led us to the other side of the room to a hallway I had never noticed before. The hallway wasn't terribly wide, only perhaps 8 feet, and moved at a downwards slant. It had a gradual curve to the right so that we were walking down in a giant spiral, heading into the belly of the earth.

Gradually the hallway widened out and a huge, cavernous room opened before us.

The room was divided by large glass barriers that were painted with a special coating that made it appear like a mirror, although it wasn't really. I was familiar with this material because sometimes the schoolmasters used it to ensure that the students weren't cheating; you could see through the glass as though it was normal glass when you wore a certain type of glasses. In school, they would put these thin barriers between the desks so that the students couldn't see each others' papers, but the schoolmaster would wear the glasses so that they could see all the students at once with ease. Almost like one-way mirrors, but slightly different.

The glass barriers stretched upwards about 10 feet but didn't reach all the way to the ceiling, and within each division I saw different things. There were sword racks, there were archery ranges, there were tracks, there were a few smaller obstacle courses, there were things that I couldn't find a purpose for. But what really interested me was the glass figure at the farthest reaches of my vision. It was a maze made out of that glass, and from what I could see the passages were narrow. Something glittered inside the entrance, and I realized with a jolt that it was a trip wire. The maze was booby-trapped.

Everyone spread out throughout the training center, and the only way I could distinguish all the tributes from the trainers was by the color of our uniforms; ours were black with a blue tint, while theirs had a red tint.

"Where do you want to go first?" I asked to no one in particular, giving the center a second glance over.

"Let's go there!" Ash declared, pointing at a random part of the center.

Hawk and Fillie started running towards it and Ash was on their heels, and I sighed before following them.

"I'm going to go over there first if you don't mind," Ty said, pointing to the station next to the one that the boys were running towards. "I'll meet up with you in like, ten minutes."

"Alright," I said.

Once I got to the station, I immediately saw why Ash had wanted to go to this one first. There were two trainers there, and one of them was making a bow.

"Why hello there," the man making the bow said, offering the boys a kind smile. "Would you like to learn how to make weaponry?"

"Yeah!" Hawk said.

"Rosa had started teaching me how before the final invasion happened and interrupted it," Ash said, looking up at me. I felt the blood rush to my face and I wished that he hadn't said that; there was really nothing that the Capitol could do about it, but it still wasn't information I wanted spreading around.

"Really?" the man said, looking up at me. He had dark brown eyes, so dark they were almost black. "Have you made bows before?"

"Only a couple times," I replied, glancing down at my toes.

"Well," he said quietly, "That's all it really takes, doesn't it? How straight to they shoot?"

"Pretty straight, every now and then I make a weird arrow that's off by a couple centimeters per twenty meters..."

"Well I'm sure we can help you with that," he said. "Meredith, would you show these boys how to shave a branch?"

The second trainer looked up from where she was organizing the tools and supplies, and nodded. The man placed the bow he was making on one of the tables, and reached for something under the table. He pulled out a bucket filled with long, thin sticks, and placed it by his bow.

"So, tell me," he said, running his hands along the top of the branches. "Which of these would you pick to make an arrow?"

I looked at him skeptically, and then looked at the bucket. I couldn't see them very well from their half-concealed position, so I dumped the bucket out on the table and spread the sticks out so I could see each one.

"Good," he said, quietly. "Now what?"

I reached for the straightest branch I saw.

"No." He shook his head. "Scrape at the bark a little."

I ran my thumbnail over the bark and cut it. The cut was green.

"It's a fresh branch, it might not dry as nice, or it might become brittle."

"Oh," I said, sheepishly. Those kind of rules applied when making a bow, why wouldn't they when making arrows? Although for a bow, you could peel it and then let it dry for a few months... I shook my head to clear my thoughts.

"Try this one," he said, deftly picking up an equally straight but completely dead and dry branch. I offered him an embarrassed smile and reached out to take it from him, and glanced around for the tools required to shave it.

"Do you have a knife or anything?" I asked, glancing up.

"You should use sand paper instead," he said. "Knives can take out chunks or give it sides while sandpaper just rubs the bark off, leaving it smooth and round." He fumbled under the desk again and handed me a piece of rough sand paper.

"But I'm not going to have sandpaper in the arena," I said, frowning.

"No, but there will be sand for you to hold and rub against it, which will do nearly as well," he replied. I thought about it for a moment, nodded, and started sanding the stick down. After that it was easy enough to split one end to make a notch, fletch it and attach on a pre-made arrowhead to the other end.

When I had completed my arrow, I heard footsteps behind me and a hand rested on my shoulder. I looked up to see Ty studying the arrow I held in my hand.

"Did you make that?" he asked, gently taking it away from me. "Not bad."

"Did you have fun doing whatever it was you were doing?" I asked, taking my arrow back.

"Oh, loads," he said, rolling his eyes. "It was kind of cool, actually. Your brother's doing pretty well making a bow." He nodded towards where Ash was sitting, cutting notches into the ends of a stick in order to string it.

"Hmm," I said, moving over to where Ash was sitting to work on the bow. I sat in the vacant chair beside him, and watched the trainer tell him to cut the notches deeper.

I yawned and stretched out my legs, closing my eyes ever so slightly.

Something ran into my foot and I opened my eyes abruptly. I looked up to see one of the female tributes from District Two, Maroon Ison, was sprawled across the ground in front of me. She brushed herself off and glared at me.

"You think that was funny? Tripping me?" she demanded, anger mutating her otherwise pretty face.

"Oh, sorry, I was just stretc-" I began, glancing up at her.

"Yeah, sure. You were trying to piss me off, weren't you?" she got to her feet and brushed off her knees again. "Well, you succeeded. You've made your first and worst enemy, bitch."

She spun on her heel and left me sitting there, still trying to figure out what happened. But one thing was sure – she was right.

She would end up being my worst enemy.


	17. Chapter 17

**I'm pretty psyched guys, my review:chapter ratio is almost 2:1! Just four more reviews to hit that land mark, so please please pretty please help me get there! 3**

That first day, I avoided doing anything to show off. I stayed back, in the simpler stations with Ash, Fillie, Hawk, Ty and Dianna. I busied myself with the simple tasks of making arrows, learning healing herbs from poisonous ones, with one eye on whatever task was at hand and one on the other tributes.

The group that was going to develop into the Career pack was fairly obvious. Blaise Donnel of District 1, Maroon Ison and Thalia Mahija of District 2, Maris, Patronelli and Riado of District 4, and a boy from District 8 all grouped together around the sword fighting station. The youngest of them was Thalia, who was 14, but most of them were seventeen and eighteen.

They were good, I'd give them that. Blaise was big, strong, and emotionless. He won round after round of sword fighting by sheer, brute force. His black eyes were blank and they never seemed to blink, which made a pit form deep in my stomach whenever I looked into his face as he fought with the others.

Maroon was fast and had a temper that burned like flames, which made her both a horrid foe but she also made mistakes. She had well-toned arms that snapped out like snakes, and her eyes flickered over the entire training area, taking in every detail. I shivered, wishing that she hadn't had such a wicked temper; I didn't want her as an enemy.

Thalia was younger, with black hair and blue eyes. While Maroon had a fiery temper, Thalia was entirely different; she was calm, calculating, and cold. She didn't have Maroon's speed or toned muscles, but she was cunning and she knew when to strike in the perfect spot.

Patronelli and Raido weren't as smart, fast, or strong, but they worked brilliantly together. I didn't know what their relationship was, because they weren't brother and sister, but they certainly seemed to know each other from before the Games. They worked together like a machine, spinning and slicing, looking in both directions and turning into an unstoppable four-armed beast.

Maris was different than the others. She was the only one who had a different kind of lilt to her step; she had a meaning to her life that the others didn't. The others were there for victory and glory. Maris? Maris was there for one reason alone: _revenge. _Her father had beaten her repeatedly when she was a child, and she wanted to prove she was worth something. That she was strong and she was brave, that she could win. That meant no friends, only allies; allies who would get her close to the finish line, but that she had no moral obligations to and could turn on in the blink of an eye. She was so eager to prove herself that she made mistakes; she lunged too soon or too late, she stumbled on an overzealous lunge, and so forth.

The boy from 8 was pretty unremarkable. I wasn't sure why he was part of the careers at all; I suppose he would make good bait for them, though. He'd be good at doing the jobs none of the others wanted.

A few other alliances emerged; most of them were within their own districts, but from what I was seeing it was mostly three groups: the Careers, the Delicates, and then us. By "us" I mean Ty, Dianna, Ash, Hawk, Fillie, Wind, Chryssie, Kiki, Thomas and Thray. I didn't like the thought of having so many kids with us; it would make it harder to stay under cover. On the one hand, it would make us more obvious and I would have to watch those kids die. But on the other hand, I couldn't bring myself to turn five kids out of their only possible alliance.

Thomas and Thray were the only two who were old enough for me to turn out if I wanted to and feel no remorse. They didn't stay with us as closely as the kids did; they wandered off frequently, but they would come back and tell me about how cool a certain station was or ask what I thought about their arrowhead or see what the kids were doing.

I didn't want to turn those two out, though; they were quickly showing their worth. Thomas was shy and kind, which made me think that he was also a mild sort of boy who wouldn't last long, but it was soon apparent that this was not the case. If you gave him two knives, he could scale a tree insanely fast and then completely disappear into the boughs. He said it was because he worked in the orchard parts of the farm and he'd play hide-and-go-seek with his brothers when he was younger.

Thray wasn't as physically adept as Thomas, but he was incredibly intelligent. When he had told me he had a perfect memory, he wasn't lying; he knew every single plant and all of its qualities after looking through the index of plants only once, he memorized entire survival books in a handful of minutes, and he could set traps perfectly from memory each and every time. He might not be able to beat me in a fist fight or with swords, but he could lay a trap that I would never see or anticipate and I'd be dead in a matter of seconds.

All in all, I thought between the four of us older ones I stood a much better chance of getting Ash out alive than I did without them. And that was honestly the priority; everything I could do to better Ash's chances meant that I had to take those risks. And if I could get him out of here without him having to kill anyone, so that he wasn't haunted for the rest of his life, then that was all the better. But I wasn't a naive to expect I could make that happen.

The Delicates were the third group, and they had a little less than a dozen people in them. The twins from District 10, Mirabella from District 7, and a handful of other graceful, quiet, strong people seemed to like spending their time together. It was a quiet battle of their wills, constantly raging against one another, but they were so quiet in their interactions it was hard to tell. I wasn't as worried about them as I was about the careers, but a few of them definitely worried me.

And so, naturally, I avoided both the other groups. About fifteen to twenty people weren't in one of the set alliances and so they went around by themselves or in pairs, and if I had to be with a tribute that wasn't in my little alliance, I chose the unaligned rather than the Delicates or the Careers.

The first and the second day passed like that, somewhat awkward and somewhat uncomfortable. But that was alright; it was better than bonding with these people. Having a bond with eight was bad enough, but if I bonded with another forty-some-odd people? I would never be able to get Ash through it.

On the third day, I finally built up the courage to go see what the maze was in the middle. Only a couple of tributes had dared venture inside and they came out bruised and hurting, and unfortunately I couldn't see much of anything that was going on within its depths. The mirrors did do one thing, though; they bounced sounds back through the entrance very well. So we heard lots of screaming.

There was one other thing outside of the maze though that no one could come up with a reason for; a gigantic red zero was glowing out of one of the mirrors. Pretty much everyone ignored it, because it never changed.

I bit my lip, watching the opening. If anyone else started going towards it then I wouldn't. On some level, I was hoping someone would go to the maze just so that I would have an excuse not to, but no one did. I walked towards it slowly and I felt eyes fixed on me, causing a shiver to run down my spine. When I stood in the doorway, I glanced back over my shoulder and saw Ty watching me with an encouraging grin on his face.

I walked in. I walked slowly, looking carefully for anything that might appear; I stepped delicately over the thin wires I saw glistening. The mirrors were disorienting, watching a few thousand versions of myself go through this task from various angles, and it gave me a headache just trying to focus on what was around me.

I paused, taking a deep breath. I forced my mind to settle down and tried to push the stray thoughts away; I pushed thoughts of home and Mom and Dad and Baby Blue and Ash away, I pushed thoughts of the Games and the people outside away, I pushed the thoughts of murder and blood away. I let myself empty until there were only two things in this world: me, and the maze I was in.

I took another step forward, but my foot sank too far. I looked down and saw that the floor tile I had stepped on was farther down than all the others. Confused, I lifted my foot, and a whooshing sound made me spin just in time for a large dart to go flying into my left bicep.

"Shit!" I hissed, staggering to the side. A drop of blood trickled down my arm, and I yanked the dart out, throwing it to the ground. The dart collided with one of the trip wires, and the walls behind me clapped shut, preventing me from returning the way I had come.

I cursed again under my breath, but then I heard something and stood very, very still. I couldn't make it out, but whatever it was was getting louder. I frowned, concentrating, trying to focus.

Footsteps.

My heart leapt into my mouth and I crouched, snatching up the dart from the ground in case I needed a weapon. No one had said what was inside this maze, but it had never crossed my mind that I might end up in combat with someone.

I walked slightly sideways in order to minimize the sound my shoes made on the floor, and I crept for the nearest corner. I tried to steady my breathing, but my heart was demanding more oxygen than I could get while breathing quietly.

Suddenly, the figure that belonged to the footsteps rounded the corner in front of me. It wasn't a "someone", although it looked that way; it was a gigantic, metallic humanoid with a chest as big around as a tire. It stomped towards me, and a small clanking sound came out of its mouth as a loud roar ripped from its metal throat.

I took a step backwards, taken aback. The dart in my hand seemed tiny and harmless in comparison to this metal bloke, but I threw it anyway. It clanged off the metal and fell to the ground with the tip bent. I glanced up at the metallic face again and took another step back, not sure what to do with it. I kept walking backwards, looking over my shoulder to avoid the tripwires I had seen before.

The metallic monster didn't bother avoiding them, and he tripped two at the same time. A series of darts flew into its shoulder, pinging off just like mine had, leaving a dent or two in the metal but not causing any more damage. A set of walls started moving in around me, and I made a quiet, strangled noise; I had no where to go. If I went back, I met the closed walls from the tripwire I had hit. If I went forward, I went straight into the marching metal figure.

I kept retreating back, hoping that maybe I would be able to climb over the mirrored walls and get away. The robot kept following me back into the narrowing abyss, snagging every trip wire it came across. Suddenly, there was a crunching sound, and something that sounded like grinding gears. The walls on either side of me quivered, and the robot was struggling in front of me. The walls had gotten trapped around the tire-sized chest of the robot, squeezing it so tight that it couldn't move.

I stared at it, shaking slightly. I watched it for a while until it stopped moving, and then I waited for my pulse to slow. I shook myself and put one hand on the walls on either side of me, which were just close enough for me to reach properly. I jumped up, using the rubber soles on my boots to hold myself in between the two walls, and then continued scaling up until I was high enough to go over the robot and to the other side. I kicked off of the robot's head, landing and rolling slightly on the other side to minimize the impact.

Now I knew what the screams had been coming from. I realized then that not only had I not screamed, but I wasn't hurt beyond the small cut in my arm. Yet, anyway.

I continued along the narrow passageway, careful to keep an eye out for the occasional wires and the stones that didn't fit into the ground quite right. When I reached the first split in the path, I stood there, uncertain of which direction to go. They were virtually identical, and both curved to the left if I stared down the path long enough. But there was something else different between the two paths that I couldn't quite place. A difference in color, in lighting perhaps.

The difference in color was because of a reflection. On the left path, there was something moving that I could just see reflected in a reflection. My stomach twisted, and I went for the right hand path, moving quickly. I heard a sound from behind me; a buzzing, a thrumming... And I went faster. I turned corner after corner, not even looking behind me to see what the thrumming was coming from. I didn't really want to know.

I heard another sound behind me, a human sound, and I did throw a glance back over my shoulder to see that someone had entered the maze behind me. One of the District Eight boys was yelling, flailing his arms around his head as something swarmed him. Fake tracker-jackers that were leaving what looked like blue paint marks on his arm flew back down the passage they had appeared from, and the boy grimaced after me. I turned and started running faster, taking huge flying leaps instead of steps, hoping to avoid all the tripwires and stones just by sheer luck.

There was another sound ahead and I slid to a stop, accidentally hitting a trip wire and causing the walls behind me to clap closed again, separating me from the District Eight boy. One of the trainers, armored to the teeth in a solid sheet of metal, stepped around the corner. He had a sword in one hand that was dulled and dripping with red paint, and a small gun in the other hand.

I glanced around, but there was no place to go and no where to hide. I crouched, ready to fight, and unsure of what that gun was going to fire. There was no way they would risk injuring one of the tributes seriously before throwing them into the arena, so it obviously didn't fire bullets...

It didn't take long for me to find out. I heard a yell above my head and looked up to see that the boy from Eight had tried to climb over the wall. A lazer coming out of the gun in the trainer's hand was focused on his chest. The boy was completely still, almost as if he couldn't move.

"You're dead," the trainer said calmly. I tackled the trainer to the ground before he could get me as well, kicking the gun out of his hand. "Alright, alright!" he yelled, my fist inches from his face. "You can pass. Your threat is dead. I gotta get the kid and take him out, though." I nodded, got to my feet, and took a few steps away, snatching his gun off the ground.

"What was that?" I asked.

"Your training suits. The fibers will stiffen so you can't move when you're hit with a laser beam, so that if a hit with a real bullet would have been fatal you'd know it," the trainer said, rubbing his shoulder. He grabbed a hold of the boy's ankle and yanked, pulling the kid down into his arms and setting him on his feet. The trainer pulled a small remote from his pocket and pressed it against the boy's suit, and the boy's shoulders sagged. Suddenly, he could move.

"I have to admit," I said, arching an eyebrow, "That's pretty cool."

"You better get moving," he said, scowling. I didn't wait for a response or wait for the trainer to ask for his gun back; instead I just continued on, racing through the passages, hoping I was heading in roughly the right direction.

At every opportunity, I took a right turn, knowing it would get me out eventually. A few other trainers and robots appeared along the way, but I just trained the gun on them and they were frozen stiff, until I ran past.

I saw the light reflected off the mirrors, showing me the outside of the maze. I ran faster and skidded outside of it, blinking up into the lights. I looked back at the maze, taking a deep breath.

The gigantic, glowing, red zero turned into a one.


	18. Chapter 18

**I'm sorry this took so long! I got super busy. On the bright side, there's only one chapter after this until the Games begin! Remember, please review!**

I was completely terrified. I grasped at the cloth on my legs, gnawing on my lip as I rocked back and forth in my chair. Ty kept trying to talk to me, but I couldn't focus on anything he had to say. He didn't have much time to talk to me, anyway; he was called back soon enough.

Training had passed in a blur that week, and only two other people 'survived' the maze after me. I had learned a lot, but I was worried I would forget everything when I went into the arena the day after tomorrow. But that didn't matter now, what mattered now was today. Today? Today was the day we got judged by our abilities and were given a number. And if I screwed up today, I wouldn't be able to get the sponsors I needed.

Mom had told me what it was like when she was tested the first time, and when she had gotten so angry she had shot an arrow at them. I figured that today would be much the same; I should be given a set amount of time to do whatever was required, and then I would be given a number based off of that. Unfortunately, even our mentors didn't know what to expect; everything was very secretive.

When Ty left, no one was there to talk to me. Dianna had already left to get examined, and then Ty left, leaving me with Ash, Thomas, and Thray. Ash and the District 13 kids were playing, so they didn't talk to me. Thomas and Thray weren't much for talking, not then anyway, so I didn't have to worry about that.

I ran my thumbs around each other, staring at a point in the distance that I couldn't see. I didn't know what I was going to do; how could I possibly impress the judges? They weren't game makers to me anymore, they were judges... they would judge who was good enough, who would live and who would die; all under the illusion that we ourselves would pick who survived.

But it was just an illusion.

Thomas left, and then Thray. Soon, it was just Allie, John, Ash, and the kids from District 13 sitting back there with me. Then Allie left. She didn't even give us a second glance over her shoulder, and walked forth to the edge of the room and disappeared. Then it was Ash's turn; he got to his feet and walked away, saying good-bye to his friends and shooting me a forelorn glance as he left. In the silence that followed his departure, I chewed on my bottom lip, staring at the floor.

"Good luck," John's voice whispered beside me. I looked up, surprised, and saw him watching me with tired, defeated eyes. My name was uttered over the speakers and I glanced up, getting to my feet.

"Thanks," I whispered, flickering my eyes towards him. "You too." I walked towards the huge double doors. They appeared heavy-set and foreboding, but they opened the second my fingers grazed the cold metal. The training centre opened up before me and I blinked, stepping forward into the onslaught of fluorescent lights. I blinked up at the judges lined up behind the barrier some ten feet above me.

They were all cold and disinterested, and boring. All but one. The man in the center watched me with beady eyes down his long nose, and I squared my shoulders defiantly. He stippled his long fingers in front of his face, and the other judges got quiet.

"Primrose Everdeen Mallark," he said, a voice low and gruff. "Second female tribute of District Twelve... Daughter of Katniss Everdeen."

"Aye," I replied, shifting my weight onto my heels to see them better.

"Very well," he said, as though suddenly bored. "What would you like to show us?"

I took a deep breath. Now was the moment. Now, I had to decide. "The maze," I said. It was the only thing I had been truly good at; I knew all the loop holes, I knew that if I just got a gun I was safe. I would be able to do brilliantly in the maze, even though I wasn't skilled at much else.

"Not available," the man said, drawling out the last syllable. "It takes too long. You've only got five minutes."

My heart hammered up into my throat and nervous adrenaline flooded my veins. My hands started shaking slightly and my mind raced. What else was there? What else was I good at? _Nothing... nothing... nothing... _I tried to ignore the little voice in my head, but I couldn't.

The man was obviously waiting for me to say something. "Ms. Mallark?" he said, snide.

"Um... archery," I breathed. My mom thought I was good at that, but I knew I was nothing compared to her.

"Very well," he said, clicking a pen ominously. "Your time begins now."

I walked towards the bows hanging off to the side, but I was shaking too hard. I stumbled, the rubber on the soles of my shoes catching on the floor. Laughter erupted from the judges' stand behind me and my face flushed, but I managed to catch myself before making an embarrassing face plant. I continued walking without looking behind me, and took a bow from the rack along with a quiver.

I slung the quiver over my shoulder and spun, knocking an arrow. If I wanted to regain my composure and make them forget about that stumble, I had to impress them – now. I loosed an arrow, fixed on the center of a target some hundred meters away. The arrow flew, but the second it left the bow I knew it wasn't going to fly true. It went almost twenty centimetres wide from the target.

My heart, which had been in my throat moments before, now sank down to my stomach. The laughter erupted from the judge's table again, but this time it didn't dwindle down nearly so fast.

I fired again and again, walking closer to the target, getting desperate. It wasn't hitting where I wanted it to, and there was no method to the madness; every time it changed. Some times it would go a few centimeters to the right, sometimes to the left, sometimes up or sometimes down. It was not the kind of bow I had used before, and there was something very wrong about this one. Almost like it was rigged.

I threw the bow to the side in a fit of exasperation and spun towards a nearby table. I wasn't nervous, now; I was angry. The table had an array of knives on it, which I picked up and started throwing. I didn't hit the target a single time; the weights in all of the daggers were wrong.

A small buzzer went off overhead, and the man announced, "The last two minutes will be a combat portion." I looked up to see a small door under the judges' stand open. Out of the shadows a man the size of a mountain lumbered, and I swallowed. He was easily a foot and a half taller than I was, and his shoulders were twice as wide as mine. I grabbed another knife, preparing myself to fight, but he moved with astonishing speed and knocked it out of my hand.

I dropped to the ground to try and grab it, but it skittered away across the ground. The judges started laughing again, and I looked up to see the lumbering trainer staring down at me. He reached one meaty fist down and grabbed the front of my shirt, hauling me to my feet. I thought that he was going to be civil and say "new round" or something along those lines, but instead he didn't even let go of the front of my shirt. He shoved, hard, sending me flying backwards. I didn't stop sliding until I hit the wall, crumpling to the ground in front of it.

I scrambled to my feet, back to the wall and looking for something I could use to fend him off. I saw one of the fallen throwing knives and lunged for it, but he intercepted me by slamming his shoulder into my stomach. I was flying through the air again but this time his arms were coiled around me, sending me up and over his shoulder.

I yelled and kicked, but he held me over his shoulder like I was nothing. I slammed my fists into his back, squirming and trying my best to get out of his grasp, but there wasn't much I could do. He didn't even flinch at the contact of my fists against his skin.

"A damsel in distress." The man with the beady eyes snickered to his fellow judges and my face heated again. I forced myself to stop squirming and think logically. I went limp over his shoulder, and then reached one hand up towards the giant's ear, yanking on it. I heard a slight rip and something warm ran over my fingers, and I let go in disgust. A bellow came from the chest under me and I fell to the floor, doing my best to clear the giant's step. His hand was clasped to the side of his face, and I could just see a partially torn ear hanging from the side of his skull.

"Sorry!" I said. I knew the man was just doing his job, but the man didn't take my apology for anything; he ran at me again. His pain made him clumsy, though, and I dodged to the side. He bellowed at me, turning and pawing at the ground like an angry bull.

"One minute," the beady-eyed judge drawled, sounding bored once more.

I danced out of the way as the giant ran by again, grimacing as blood dripped onto my face from the open wound on the side of his head. I wiped it off my face with disgust, staring at the red smudges on my fingers.

"You know what?" I said, suddenly straightening out of my defensive pose. I threw my arms to my side, as though opening myself up in surrender. "Enough."

The judges looked down at me curiously, but the giant stopped readily enough. The aggressive expression disappeared off of his face immediately and he straightened, clutching at his ear with bloody hands. His eyes were watering, and I worried for a minute that he might start crying.

"Firstly..." I said, spinning to look at the judges face-on. The anger surged up inside of me. "Fuck you."

The judges looked shocked and taken aback, but I didn't stop there.

"You send us in here without giving us a hint of what to expect? Then to add insult to injury, you sabotage my only chances for getting a sponsor?" I marched up towards the window, wagging a finger at them. The anger was turning my vision red, but I didn't care. "Yeah, fuck you. You think I didn't notice that the arrows were weighted so they wouldn't fire straight? You think I didn't notice that the daggers were weighted wrong? And then you send out this gigantic man, who I'm sure is very friendly, to beat up a sixteen year old girl two days before she has to fight for her life?"

I waited for a minute, expecting the judges to say something. They didn't.

"And then, you throw me into a situation where I have to hurt this guy. He's gonna have a scar for years because of that, just because you were too stuck up to let me do the maze like any other human being. No one gets hurt in the maze. So. Fuck you. Fuck you, fuck that, fuck this, fuck the WHOLE GAMES."

The man stared down his long nose at me, closing his jaw slowly. He worked at his mouth for a while, and then said, "You certainly are your mother's daughter. You have her fire."

"No," I said, flicking my words out as though they were a whip with which I could scar his face. "I'm not. I'm Primrose Everdeen Mallark... But if you want my mother? I can be my mother. Enjoy your games, gentlemen. And may the odds be _ever _in your favor."

I spun on my heel and left, slamming through the double doors on the far side of the training center and leaving the whispering judges far behind me.


	19. Chapter 19

**Guys, please review! It's very discouraging to only get one review... :(**

Unfortunately, I knew that my little speech at the end wouldn't be enough to save me. I had failed miserably; I had tripped, I had missed every target, and I had looked like a total fool with the giant. When I emerged from the double doors, everyone was standing there waiting: Ash, Dianna, Ty, Thomas, Thray, Naevius, Cinna, and Tatiana were all standing there. They grinned widely when they saw me, and my stomach sank. I didn't want to talk to anyone.

"How did you do?!" Tatiana asked, burbling.

"Did you scare their socks off?" Ty asked, his grin lopsided.

"Who even wears socks anymore?" Dianna arched an eyebrow.

"I do," Ash said, jumping up and down. "I totally kicked butt, Rosa! I was like PEW and like THIS and like SCADOOSH and-" he was kicking and miming his actions.

"That's nice, Ash," I said, smiling weakly.

"It's true, I heard some serious THUDS coming from behind that door," Tomas said. I scanned the faces around me. They were all happy enough, but many eyes had a sort of sunken sadness to them that they couldn't shake. The only one that wasn't smiling was Naevius. Naevius was watching me with narrowed eyes, and I couldn't quite shake the feeling that he knew precisely what had happened. Naevius elbowed Cinna lightly, and whispered something in his ear.

I walked past them, gently sliding between Ty and Cinna's shoulders.

"Wait, where are you going?" Thray asked, following me a few steps.

"The bloke I was fighting was pretty wicked," I replied, reaching for an excuse. "I'm going to get some bruises tended to so that I don't wake up sore tomorrow."

"Fair enough," Cinna said. "I'll come with you and escort you to the medical wing. I opened my mouth to protest, but I didn't have the energy.

"That would be lovely," I conceded. I turned and continued walking, Cinna taking long and easy strides to catch up with me.

"What did you do?" he breathed, once we were far enough from the others. "Now isn't the time to be making enemies out of the Game Makers, Rosa."

"I know," I snapped. "They sabotaged everything. They needed a good lecture."

"Did you at least do well before then?" he asked. "Then they would at least remember that instead..."

"No," I cut him off. "I did horribly. It was a nightmare. Everything was weighted wrong. And then they sent this gigantic man after me and laughed every time I fell, and -"

"You let your anger get to you?" Cinna said, gentle.

I looked up at him, suddenly very tired. "Yeah."

"Your mother was the same way, you know," Cinna said.

"That's what they said," I snapped, suddenly angry again.

"But she won anyway," Cinna continued. "It's not a bad thing to be like your mother, you know."

"But I don't want to be her," I groaned. "I am my own person. I don't want to be punished for my mother's actions, I don't want to be treated like my mother, I don't want to have to die because of my mother, I don't want people to look at me and say 'Katniss Everdeen's daughter', I just want to be Rosa."

"Would you rather that she had done nothing?" Cinna asked solemnly. "Because that was the alternative."

"Well, no..."

"Then do not blame your mother. Just as this is not your fault, it is not hers. Blame no one but the game Makers and those in charge." Cinna watched me quietly.

"I blame them, trust me. They make me so damned angry..."

"Language," Cinna reminded me gently. "There are far more eloquent and powerful ways to express that you hate something, cursing is so minimalist and limited."

"You're right," I said, and then I proceeded to string together every angry, hateful word I could think of. "Better?"

"Do you feel better?" he replied.

I thought about it for a moment. "Yeah, actually. Not much, but... it's manageable," I sighed.

"Well, I tell you what. Do you actually need medical attention, or did you just need away?" he asked, giving me a once-over.

"I actually do," I said. "I've only got one day until the arena, which won't be enough time to heal." I gestured to the large, angry purple bruises already coming out on my arms, and my back burned from where the lumbering trainer had thrown me to the ground.

"Then I'll take you up there. After, will you join us in the central part of the District 12 floor? Everyone wanted to watch the scores together."

I thought about it for a moment. I really didn't want to, but I also didn't want to let the judges control my last few days. "Yeah. Sure."

"Good," he grinned. "I'll go get you checked in at the medical bay, then."

After the time I spent in the medical bay getting my bruises and sprains taken care of, I went back to the District 12 apartment. When the elevator doors opened up, everyone was sitting inside, waiting. The TV program was splayed across the wall, and a gigantic pause symbol hovered over Nero's frozen face.

"You're here!" Naevius said, standing up an clapping his hands together. "Take a seat, and we'll get started."

I nodded and sat in the only available spot, which was in between Ty and Dianna. As soon as I was settled, Naevius clicked 'play' and Nero's frozen face reanimated.

"Welcome people of Panem!" Nero said, and the camera panned out to show both him and Kit. "Kit, would you mind telling the people what they can expect from the Game Show tonight?"

"Absolutely, Nero!" she said, spinning her chair around once and tapping her papers on the desk to organize them. "Tonight, we will be hearing the scores for all of our tributes!"

"Is it like the Hunger Games scores?" Nero asked with false sincerity.

"It's similar, but this year it is a little different," Kit said, and launched into an explanation of how the scoring was going to work. "This year, each tribute will get not one, not two, but four different scores. They will get a score for Cunning, a score for Skill, and a score for Diversity. Cunning will consist of the candidate's intelligence and ability to come up with ways to defeat their opponent. Skill will refer to their ability in the given field, and Diversity refers to the number of different skills that the tributes have shown not only today, but throughout the training week. The final an fourth score is their Danger Score, which takes all of the above into account and a few other variables, which describes how much of a threat the tribute poses to other tributes. Each of these scores are on a scale of 13, to honor the number of Districts competing today."

"I see," Nero said, stroking his chin. "Well, it's a good thing we've got all these scores right here, haven't we!" He gestured to the papers on the table in front of them. The screen behind them flickered to life, and Crystal Pierce of District One flashed up on it, along with four numbers off to the side.

"Crystal Pierce is a wonderful girl from District One who has charmed her way into the heart of the Capitol with her white hair and dark eyes. She earned a Cunning set of 7, a Skill set of 10, and a Diversity set of 10. Her over-all Danger Score was 9," Kit read from the papers in front of her.

"That is very impressive, isn't it?" Nero declared.

"Not quite as impressive as Blaise Donnel," Kit replied. "Blaise, a bulky teen who says he absolutely loves kittens -" she gestured to herself and winked at the camera "- scored a Cunning Score of 5, but a Skill set of 10 and a Diversity set of a whopping 11. That's one of the highest scores on the sheet, giving him a Danger Score of 10."

"Quite amazing. Next we have Dianna, I believe? She's a lovely character to talk to," Nero replied.

"Indeed, Dianna Janson of District One. She earned a Cunning set of 10, a Skill set of 9, and a Diversity set of 8. Her over-all Danger Score was 9."

"Many of the folks back home don't know how truly spectacular these scores are," Nero said. "Perhaps some of the later scores will give perspective; District One is maintaining its Career reputation."

"Next is Onyx Cardenian," Kit said, settling back in her seat slightly. "With a Cunning set of 6, a Skill set of 7, and a Diversity set of 8. His over-all danger score was 7."

"Even that is above average, and he's the lowest from his district!" Nero exclaimed. "The average Danger Score was 6. On to District Two, eh?"

"Let's see if the Careers have maintained their step ahead," Kit replied.

"Maroon Ison of District Two had a Cunning set of 8, a Skill set of 11, and a Diversity set of 9. Her overall Danger Score was 10."

"C'mon, hurry up and tell me what I got!" Ty said, frustrated. He slammed his fist into his thigh, which made me flinch slightly.

"Ty Hawthorn... This was that striking lad who made the alliance with the Mockingjay's daughter! And his scores definitely match. He has a Cunning set of 7, a Skill set of 10, and a Diversity set of 10. His Danger Score was 9!"

And so they continued, but as the numbers dragged on I started to only focus on the ones who I knew.

Cir, the guy who flirted with Dianna and got a much deserved smack, had a Cunning set of 9, a Skill set of 5, and a Diversity set of 4 for an overall Danger Score of 6.

Maris, the Career from District 4 got a Cunning set of 7, a Skill set of 9, and a Diversity set of 6 for an overall Danger Score of 7.

Kiki, the tiny blonde girl from District 5 who was barely old enough to compete earned a Cunning set of 7, a Skill set of 4, and a Diversity set of 5 for an overall Danger Score of 5.

Mirabella Mason, the graceful girl from District 7, earned a Cunning set of 6, a Skill set of 10, and a Diversity set of 5, for an overall Danger Score of 7.

Thomas, who was very excited for his scores, earned a Cunning set of 7, a Skill set of 8, and a Diversity set of 7, for an overall Danger Score of 7. Considering that the other people from his district only had a Danger score of 5, he was pretty proud of himself.

Thray was perhaps the most interesting set of scores. His photographic memory earned him a Cunning set of 12, but he must not have done much as far as skills were concerned because he only earned a 3 for Skills and a 5 for Diversity. Maybe he just got in front of the judges and started reciting everything he had memorized about the games and plants and whatnot. His over all Danger Score was 6.

So far, most people had gotten a Cunning score of 6-7, and then others (with the exception of the Careers and a couple others) got a Skill set of about 5, with a Diversity set of 4 and an overall Danger Score of 5 or so.

Then, it was our turn. Allie's face flashed up on the screen, and she sat forward in her seat.

"Allie Fitswitch," Nero read, tapping his long finger against his paper. "This girl was quite determined to win, you know. She's got a lot of confidence, particularly after spending so much time with the Mockingjay's daughter. I like her. She got a Cunning score of 7, a Skill set of 6, and a Diversity set of 8. She's got a Danger Score of 7, according to the judges."

"Let's see... The Mockingjay's son. The one who is supposedly going to win, eh? He earned a Cunning score of 8, a Skill set of 6, and a Diversity set of 8 for an overall Danger Score of 8. Pretty good for a 12 year old, don't you think?" Nero glanced up at Kit, looking for feedback.

"I agree, he did better than some people twice his weight. He also did better than people who were six years older than him."

"Alright. Now the score everyone's been waiting for, the dangerous contestant... Drum roll please," Nero said. Kit obliged by smacking her hands on the table, a smile on her face. "Her scores are actually odd. You know, up until now the Danger Score had been more or less the average of the first three scores. But... Well. Her Cunning Score was a 12, he Skill set was a 2, and her Diversity set was a 6. By my line of thinking, that should have put her Danger Score at around 6 or 7, right? But she must have done something to show the judges she was terrifying. Her Danger Score is 12."

Kit and Nero looked at each other for a long moment, and then at the camera. They continued talking, but I had stopped listening. My score just kept running through my mind... _Danger Score of 12. Skill set of 2. _

Of course, I knew what the game makers had been thinking. That made everyone pay attention. Now, everyone was going to remember my score. That's why they had written Nero's script like that, and that's why they gave me such weird scores. Now everyone was going to remember me. Everyone was going to look for me. And everyone was going to want me dead, because a Danger Score of 12 was a serious threat.

I wasn't going to last very long.


	20. Chapter 20

**Guys, if you do not start reviewing we are gonna have problems. Because PowerOfAphrodite is the only one who's reviewing, maybe I should just PM her the chapters. I am very, very serious about this reviewing thing. It is very important to me, and nothing bothers me more than 25 people reading that last chapter and only one person reviewing. **

**The Games start next chapter, so it'd be a shame if you guys don't get to find out what happens in them... **

The day after we got our scores was our resting day. One day to finally prepare ourselves for the games that would begin the following morning at precisely 8:05. Unfortunately, it didn't help me prepare at all. All it did was make me more and more anxious, and I was worried about my resolve crumbling.

I pushed my fears away and spent the day with my allies, planning what we were going to do to begin the games. The basic idea was this: Ash would run towards me the second the chimes went off, while Ty and Dianna ran for the cornucopia to gather all the supplies. Thomas and Thray would cover them, while staying back far enough that they weren't in any serious danger of getting involved in the blood-bath. The other children, the ones from District 13 and then Kiki, would run after Ash, trying to keep up as Ash and I ran to the nearest shelter that would hide us from the rest of the bloodshed. Trees, hopefully. Ty and the others would then follow us, using the 60 second pause at the beginning to evaluate where we were. In the pause, I would indicate where we were going to run.

That night, I went to bed early but I couldn't sleep. After an hour of tossing and turning, I was worried that I would never get to sleep, and I couldn't risk being exhausted the following day. I got out of bed and searched for Naevius. When I found him he was still nursing the sick Hadriana, but he stood up and left her room when he saw me. He gave me a small tablet to help me sleep, and sent me back to bed.

When I finally woke up, Aelia was banging her fists against the door.

"Get up, up, up!" she was saying in a sing-song voice. "It is six, you must be dressed and fed by six-thirty! You must be downstairs by six-fourty-five for us to transport down to the center for the debriefing, so you can leave for the arena by seven-thirty! Then, you will be in your rooms by eight and up in the arena by eight-oh-five!"

"Ughhhhhh," I groaned, rolling over and smacking my fist against the pillow. "Are you sure I can't just stay here?"

"Absitively-possolutely!" she said, chipper as ever. I rolled out of bed and opened the closet, wondering what would be best to wear into the arena. I didn't get a choice; there was only one outfit inside. I looked at it, wondering how precisely I was supposed to put it on.

It was a thin black material that didn't consist of a shirt and pants, but was rather both in one. I took it off the rack and glanced at the back, which had a zipper go from the back of the neck all the way down to the small of the back. I unzipped it and slid inside, fumbling awkwardly for the zipper on my back when a second knock came from the door.

"Rosa?" Ty's voice called. "Are you ready for breakfast?"

"Almost," I called back.

There was silence for a moment as I tried to get the zipper the rest of the way up my back. "Are you having problems with your uniform?"

"A little," I admitted. The door opened slowly, and Ty peeked around the corner.

"Here, let me help," he said, and he walked closer. He gently removed my fingers from the zipper and zipped it the last ten inches, brushing my hair out of the way and over my shoulder.

"Um, thanks," I said, a little awkward.

"Don't thank me yet, there's more," he said, smiling lopsidedly. He reached back into the closet and grabbed a bag from the bottom, in which I had assumed would be shoes. He opened it and dumped it out on the foot of my bed, sending small pieces of silver metal clinking across the bedspread. I picked a piece up, examining it, and then I glanced back at Ty, studying his outfit.

His suit was also black, but it was encrusted in a deep red metal. A chest-plate made of different plates of metal that seemed to have no way of staying on his body outlined his physique, and cuffs of metal clung to his biceps and thighs. I picked up a piece of my silver metal and was surprised to find it incredibly light weight, it might have been made out of feathers.

"That's a cuff for your forearm," Ty said, taking it from me and touching it to the fabric on my left arm. There was a weird sound almost like velcro, and the fabric knit itself to the metal. I tried to pull the metal off, but it wouldn't budge. "Don't worry, it won't hurt. You'll get used to it."

I nodded, taking a deep breath to clear my mind. I reached for another piece of metal, which matched the one on my left forearm, and touched it to my right. The sound followed, and I took another breath. Ty handed me another piece of metal. "This is for your upper arm."

Once my arms were covered, I worked up my legs. He grabbed a few more pieces of metal and fit them to my back for me. He then handed me another piece of metal. "This is for your, uh..." he stopped talking, his face turning red. I glanced at the metal and realized it had cups, and I quickly put it on my chest before he finished talking. The last two sheets of metal guarded my stomach, and then I straightened. It felt odd to wear this metal armor, and I worried that it would make it difficult to maneuver in the arena.

"Two more things," Ty said, fishing in the bag. "Boots, and... ah, here they are. Gloves." He handed me the gloves and boots, then took a step back awkwardly. I looked at him for a long moment.

"It'll only take a minute to put them on, I'll meet you for breakfast," I said, and he nodded. His lopsided grin returned and he backed out of the room.

"See you then!"

I yanked on my boots and laced them up to my ankles, and then tugged my gloves on finger by finger. When I walked out to the dining room, everyone was there. Extra chairs had been pulled up to the already large District 12 table to accommodate not only the four tributes from District 12, but also all their alliance partners... and all their alliance partners' stylists, and all of their mentors. All of the District 13 kids were there, Kiki was there, Ty and Dianna were there, Thray and Thomas were there... that meant 13 tributes were there in that room, and 8 mentors, 26 stylists, and 2 Capitol representatives were there. 49 people were crammed into that room; it would have been 50 if only Hadriana was there. Hadriana was still ill. I wondered briefly if she should ever get better, because she had been sick for multiple weeks now. Had she not tried any of the Capitol's medicines?

I grabbed a flaky roll from the center of the table and took up the vacant seat in between Ash and Ty. Everyone from the Capitol side was talking, but the tributes were mostly quiet.

"So, does everyone remember the plan?" I asked, looking at the faces circled around the table. They all nodded, some looking more grim than others.

"Are you ready, Ash?" I asked, giving him a long look. He looked up at me with wide gray eyes, and I offered him an encouraging smile.

"No," he said, shaking his head. "But that isn't going to change, so I suppose I have to be."

"Yeah," I nodded. "But don't worry. In just a little bit, you'll be out of the arena. It'll happen before you know it."

He obviously wasn't comforted, but he didn't say anything else. I ate my roll quickly while Dianna and Ty talked softly to one another. Not soon after I finished, Aelia stood up on the far end of the table and tapped her spoon against her glass.

"Everyone, everyone!" she called. "It is six-thirty-five, please start heading in groups to the elevators! Tributes first, please!"

I got up slowly, pushing my chair backwards as I stood. I put my hand on Ash's shoulder and steered him around towards the elevator, with Ty on my heels. We made the mistake of shoving all 13 of us into the elevator in a single go, so we were all very very close to one another. I jumped up against Ty on accident, and in my attempt to give him some space I stumbled slightly. He reached out and caught me, laughing.

"Oh, so coordinated," he said, dimples showing. "I can tell you're going to be fearsome in the arena, Ms. Danger Score of 12."

"Oh hush," I said, rolling my eyes. The people standing behind my shifted, pushing me closer against him. Color rose in my cheeks, and I looked down quickly. When we finally reached the bottom, everyone staggered out of the elevator in a wave. The mentors came down in the elevator after us, and I saw Naevius' eyes searching for me over the crowd. When he saw me, he pushed through the crowd, John trailing behind him.

"You two," Naevius said, directing us off to the side. "It is my job to keep you alive. Avoid the blood bath, which I'm sure you've both already talked about. But another thing... play the game. Don't fight the Capitol, don't think you can beat them. Just go along with it, it's your only chance of getting you... or someone you love... out alive."

"Got it," John agreed. "Is that all? I'm going to go track down Allie."

"Yeah, you're good," Naevius said, and John disappeared back into the mess of tributes, mentors, and stylists.

"Sweet," I said, moving to meet back up with my allies.

"Not you," Naevius said, grabbing my arm and turning me to face him once more. "You. Do you know what is going on?" 

"Um... I'm going to fight to the death, I'm pretty sure," I said.

"No, not that," Naevius said. "They said your brother would go back into the games, even though they already said the victors get immunity. Do you know what they're doing?"

"No," I said, frowning. "Do you?"

"Damn," he said, shaking his head. "My best guess is that it's a special thing for the Mockingjay's kids. But that doesn't sound right... they always have something more devious than that. Be careful. The entire country was watching when they made that blunder and they are going to have to explain it... the only time it won't matter is if Ash is dead. Your job is going to be harder than you had thought before."

My heart sank down into my stomach as I processed what he said.

"Great..." I said, sighing.

"Tributes to the front!" a bellowing voice called, and I saw Varius, the head trainer, looming over the crowd. "Time to leave!"

"Good luck," Naevius whispered, and gave me a light push towards the other tributes. I followed the mob of tributes as they moved from the large entryway in which we had gathered down through the depths of the buildings to the training center that we had been in only a few days ago. After a few minutes of walking, we saw the training center.

The training center had been reorganized. Many of the walls that had surrounded it had been reorganized, blocking over half of the center from view. What remained of the training center was filled with chairs and a single white sheet, which hung on the wall that all the chairs faced.

"Sit down, sit down," Varius said, and everyone took a seat. A light flashed across the white sheet, illuminating it with a few images. "Here is your lastdebriefing before the games. Once this is over, I would like you to exit through the corridor on your left.

"Many of you may have heard of the Hunger Games, and this game will be very similar. However, it is also very different. It is not the bloody free-for-all that your parents knew. There are rules in the arena.

"Firstly, what everyone wants to know... What will happen if you're a victor. For most of you, you will be granted what is virtually the same as immunity to the games. You will get suspended from having your name re-drawn for seven years, which will make each of you too old to compete again. However, those of you who are the children of higher ranking officials will have your name suspended for less time. Many of you will have your name-drawing suspended for four years. The exception is the Mockingjay's children, who will only have it suspended for a single year following their games. This means that they will not be drawn next year, should they win, but they could be drawn the following year.

"Secondly..." I stopped listening to the trainer then. I was absorbed in taking in the information they had just provided me. If Ash won this one, he could go back when he was 14. And then again when he was 16. And again when he was 18. And me? If somehow I won this one, I could go back when I was 18. And Baby Blue... I took a deep, shuddering breath.

"It's alright," Ty whispered, nudging me slightly. I looked up at him and smiled slightly, and he returned my smile. Varius kept talking, but I didn't tune back in until he said,

"Alright, ladies and gentlemen. Please exit through that corridor, which will lead you under the city to an airpad where the airship is waiting to take you to the arena. Today is the day of the Games! May the odds be ever in your favor."


	21. Chapter 21

**I would like to thank everyone for reviewing, particularly 'glimmeriscool'. The review "u hve bad grammar and stop begiing 4 revoos" just made me crack up. It was a much needed joke, and it broke down a lot of the irritation I was feeling. So thanks for that, and thank you to everyone who reviewed! Please keep reviewing!**

The flight to the arena passed in a blur, and before I knew it we were landing. I took a deep breath, and we were escorted off the airship, two trainers to each tribute. One of the trainers who was escorting me tried to steer me by grabbing my arm, but I shook him off. He gave me a long look, but he didn't try to grab my arm again.

There was a large tunnel outside that forked, one side curving off to the right and one curving off to the left. The way they curved made me think they were wrapped around some gigantic circle, and I wondered what might be inside it. The trainers led me around about one sixth of the curving circle before we stopped. There was a door with a small silver primrose emblazoned on the door, and my stomach dropped.

"Here you are, Rosa," one of the trainers said, uncomfortably familiar with my name. The second trainer opened the door, and ushered me inside.

The inside of the room was a sterile silver metal, with no furnishings within the room itself. A single clear tube rose up the centre, with an opening on one side just large enough to step through. I recognized it as the tube-like elevators my parents had described.

One of the trainers opened a pouch on his hip and pulled out a very, very large needle. He gestured for my arm and I gave it to him hesitantly.

"This is going to hurt, I'm not going to lie," he said. He didn't give me time to respond before stabbing the needle into my forearm and pushing down on the button at the back. I grimaced and rubbed my arm, where a large lump lay under the skin now. The tracker.

The trainers and I stood in awkward silence for a few minutes before a voice came on over the silver speakers overhead.

"All tributes are in their rooms," the voice said. It was a smooth, buttery voice, and I realized he would probably be narrating the entire games. "It is eight-oh-three. Tributes, please step onto the platforms."

Adrenaline poured into my veins and I forced myself to step within the tube. My heart was fluttering up into my mouth, and a clear plastic sheet shut across the opening to the tube. I was trapped. I realized with a panic that they could kill me right now, in that tube. They could gas me or shoot me or crush me or just leave me there, trapped, to starve to death. The panic became overwhelming and I started slamming my fists against the glass, but there was no way out.

Before I knew it, the floor beneath me started moving upwards. The tube above my head opened up an sunlight started filtering in, and I breathed in the clean air. I struggled to compose myself as the floor beneath me came level with the arena.

At first I couldn't see, because the sunlight blinded me.

"60... 59... 58..." The panic returned, and I worried my vision wouldn't return before we had to run.

"57... 56... 55..." My vision returned and I squinted around me. Directly in front of me was the cornucopia, an overwhelming pile of sandy stone that glittered in the early morning sun. There were so many supplies and packs that they were falling out of the stone and were strewn across the ground in front of it.

"54... 53... 52..." I glanced around, taking in the rest of the arena. About twenty feet behind me, a huge stone wall rose up over thirty meters before it turned into rows upon rows of sand-stone seats. The wall wrapped all the way around the ring of tributes, encasing us in a stony prison.

"51... 50... 49..." There were seven tributes in between Ash and I. Immediately next to Ash was Wind, the girl from District 13. Ty was directly across the arena from me, and was far enough away that I couldn't properly see his facial expression. Dianna was pretty close to him, crouched and ready to run for the cornucopia.

"48... 47... 46..." Thomas and Thray were on either side of Dianna and Ty, in perfect position to cover them when they ran for the cornucopia. I searched for the other young children, and saw Hawk and Fillie to my right. I couldn't see Kiki and Chryssie, and I realized that the cornucopia must be blocking them from view. My stomach sank.

"45... 44... 43..." I went over the plan once more in my mind, and remembered that I needed to find shelter. And, more importantly, I only had about 40 seconds left to find it.

"42... 41... 40..." I scoured the walls again, searching for something that would give us cover. Some way out... some way to shelter. Some way to keep Ash and the other children safe.

"39... 38... 37..." I couldn't find anything. There wasn't any break in the walls that I could see, and my stomach plummeted into my feet.

"36... 35... 34..." Wait. What was that? Over there?

"33... 32... 31..." I squinted, and I realized that one of the stones in the wall was a slightly different color. More over, it was sticking out of the wall just slightly. A small, sandy stone hook stuck out of one of the protruding edges, and a tan rope wrapped around the hook went up and over the wall.

"30... 29... 28..." I followed the rope up, and saw that it led to a box with chairs almost like thrones rather than the old sandy chairs surrounding the rest of the arena. Where were we?

"27... 26... 25..." I couldn't figure out what they had modeled the arena after, and that terrified me. But I clung to the hope that somehow, someway we would be able to get out through that rope and stone. Maybe there was a pressure plate or maybe we could climb the rope, who knows? There had to be a way out.

"24... 23... 22..." I made eye contact with Ash, and then nodded slightly towards that spot on the wall. It was closer to him than it was to me, so it didn't make sense for him to run for me first. He frowned at me, his brow knit.

"21... 20... 19..." He understood, and nodded. I glanced across the arena to Ty, and shifted my weight subtly on my feet so that I was leaning towards that wall. His head swivled, he saw the spot on the wall, and he twisted back into position. I had to trust that he understood, because nodding would be too suspicious, and I couldn't see his face from here.

"18... 17... 16..." I glanced at Hawk and Fillie. They had both seen the exchange between Ash and I, and when I glanced at them they nodded ever so slightly.

"15... 14... 13..." I rolled my shoulders and stretched carefully, preparing to run. The time was approaching; we were going to have to play the games now. Everything that I had spent the last year fearing was finally here.

"12... 11... 10..." No holding back. Whatever happened from here on out, would happen. I just had to do my best and get Ash out of here. I felt a weight lifting off my shoulders; we were here. There was no more preparation. There was only doing.

"9... 8... 7..." I crouched in preparation, focusing my eyes on the cornucopia so that no one else would see where I intended on running. This had to go smoothly, this had to be perfect, there couldn't be any doubt about what was going to happen. No one could die, not yet.

"6... 5... 4..." A cold chord struck in my heart, and I realized just what the arena had been modeled after. This was an old roman Colosseum, for gladiators to fight to the death.

How fitting.

"3... 2... 1..." A gong struck out and I leapt off of my platform, racing towards Ash. Ash hesitated for a moment, looking at me.

"Run!" I yelled, but I stumbled. I stared down at the stone beneath my feet as I scrambled to catch myself, but the stone was falling away beneath me. I let out a scream, and Ash's voice above me yelled out,

"Rosa!"

I opened my mouth to reply, but the inky blackness wrapped around me and the sunlight above disappeared.


	22. Chapter 22

**Okay, so, I'm at a temporary lull in exams so I figured I'd go ahead and update some of this stuff. Like, review, favorite, whatever it is you want to do! I love y'all.**

"Ugh," I moaned, rolling over in the dark and coughing. Something suspiciously hot and coppery filled my mouth and I flopped back into my back, groaning again. Everything hurt. I had no idea how far I'd fallen, but it was far enough that I was concerned about some broken ribs. The pieces of rubble underneath me had left cuts along my hands, but my light armor had protected the rest of me. I put my hand to my head and felt something sticky.

I squinted into the darkness, but I didn't see any light anywhere. I sat up slowly, my head reeling; I couldn't tell if my vision faded with it or not. After a few moments I got to my feet, listening intently to see if there was anyone else in the darkness with me. When I heard nothing, I felt outwards, fumbling for a wall or some way to orient myself.

I found one and it was oddly smooth and straight, as though it was a real wall and not the wall of some cavern or cave. I felt along the wall, searching for some source of light or anything with which I could guide my way. After a few moments I found something long and wooden, which I grasped and pulled from the wall. The end of the wooden stick erupted in flame, blinding me temporarily.

"Damn," I murmured, covering my eyes as a reflex. I blinked quickly and looked around.

I was standing in a stone hallway, and above my head the roof had given way and some of the crumbled roof was scattered across the floor. The hole had sealed up with dirt and stone that had fallen down from above it, preventing any light – or anyone – from getting through.

I grumbled under my breath and looked down the hallway. Each end of the hallway twisted out of view, as though I was standing in a maze. I took a deep breath and tried to decide which way to go; they both looked the same. I realized that if they both looked the same then it probably didn't matter which way I went, and so I just picked a direction and started walking.

I hoped Ash and the others had gotten out of the Colosseum safely. Fear clinched in my chest as I wondered if perhaps one of them had gotten caught in the stones that had enclosed overhead; what if one of their bodies was in the dirt above my head right now?

I shook my head and kept walking. After each turn of the hallway, it still looked the same, and I wondered if perhaps I wouldn't get lost in here and starve to death. Maybe that was the game-makers intent; to make sure I died.

But this was not as exciting as they might have hoped, and so I kept walking, my fingers brushing against the left hand wall of the hallway. They had to have some way for me to get out, or they would get poor ratings and my death would not be as satisfactory as they had hoped.

After what seemed like an eternity of walking, a noise came from somewhere in front of me. My heart leapt into my mouth and I inched forwards, peeking around the next corner of the hallway. I couldn't see anything beyond the red glow of my torch, so I stood waiting, hoping that whatever it was would come into view.

The scuffling noise repeated itself, and I began to calm. It was probably just a rat; it wasn't very loud. I shook my head; I was too jumpy. It's not like any other tribute was down here with me, right?

Just as I took a step forwards, the creator of the noise stepped into the light. My heart then dropped from my mouth to my stomach, and I slowly craned my head backwards to look up at the face of the creature.

It was huge, and definitely not human. My eyes widened, and I took a step backwards. The creature craned it's head down to look me in the eye, and then sniffed me loudly. It was huge and bipedal with white fur covering its body. Its eyes were cloudy and blind, although it probably didn't need to see in this kind of place. It had huge jowls that hung over a large, muscled chest, and tusks about a metre long stuck out from the corners of its mouth.

It stood there, thoughtful, as though contemplating my scent. Then it opened its cavernous mouth, and roared.

"Oh shit!" I yelled, scrambling backwards. The creature swatted at where I had been standing a moment before with a huge paw, long claws extending into the air and making a whistling noise. I spun and ran back down the hallway in the direction from which I had just come, but as I reached the end of the hallway it didn't turn anymore; the passage had sealed up.

"Oh, buttersticks," I whispered, turning slowly to face the beast that was lumbering towards me down the hallway.

I didn't want to be cornered, so I ran at the beast instead. I yelled at the top of my lungs, hoping to intimidate it and make it run away. Instead it just stopped and stood taller, beating its chest with its fists and yelling up at the ceiling. I looked for a weapon, but I didn't see one; then I realized that the torch in my hand would provide an excellent weapon.

I shoved the fire into the beast's stomach, and the smell of burning fur filled the corridor. I crinkled my nose and pulled the torch back, trying to keep the flame from burning out. The creature howled pitifully and swatted at me again, but I ducked under its arm and around it, sprinting down the opposite side of the hallway. The beast growled and stumbled after me.

I searched the walls and floor for a better way to attack it, but there was nothing there. I grimaced; the smell of burning fur had filled the entire hallway. I glanced over my shoulder and saw that the stomach of the beast was actually still on fire, and the fire was spreading across its oily fur. Its howls were growing louder, and they had changed from aggressive to painful, but I didn't look back again.

I saw another torch on the wall ahead, unlit, but this one was made out of metal rather than wood. I grabbed it and turned to face the monster.

The creature stopped and looked at me, its large eyes glittering. Its knees buckled and it let out another moan, curling up on the ground. The fire went out, but it didn't get back to its feet.

I took a cautious step towards it, but it didn't react. It just stayed curled up on the ground, covering its stomach. I took another step towards it, and another, until I was standing close to it. It looked up at me with pitiful eyes and made a whimpering sound that reminded me of John's pet dog back home.

John's dog had had its back legs crushed by a cart, and it had laid like that in the street. John had then shot it to save it from its misery.

I looked down at the metal torch in my hand, which had a long spiked end. My stomach churned and I felt like I was going to throw up.

"Is that what you want?!" I asked, spinning around and looking at the walls. There had to be a camera here somewhere. There was no response, except for the whimpering of the beast on the floor. I turned back to it and saw that it had closed its eyes, and curled up tighter.

"Fine," I breathed, looking at it. "But let me make sure it's necessary."

As though the beast understood me, it opened its eyes and slowly uncurled.

The burn across its stomach had left black charred fur around its edges. Where the skin wasn't black and cracked, red flesh bubbled through it. In the spot where I had touched the torch to its stomach, the skin had torn back completely, baring its intestines to the air.

I gagged and turned, leaning against the wall and trying to catch my breath.

"This'll make that feel better," I murmured, and gathered my strength. I turned back to the beast, who was watching me with wide eyes. It lay there and slowly closed its eyes as I raised the metal torch. I slammed the spike through its eye socket and it went limp.

The blood splattered up across my face and I gagged again. I doubled over, trying to keep myself from vomiting, but I didn't succeed. I grimaced and wiped my mouth before getting to my feet. I left the dead creature there on the floor without looking back.

I walked, aching and shell-shocked, around the next bend in the hallway. I could finally see sunlight bouncing off the walls in the distance, and I gave out a hysterical chuckle.

I was almost out of here. I was almost back to Ash.


	23. Chapter 23

**Sorry it's been so long, I've been out of the country for a few weeks. I hope you guys enjoy!**

When I finally stumbled out of the tunnels onto open land, I was surprised at what I saw. Outside was so very different than the arena I had entered, I wondered if I had actually escaped the arena itself and was outside the game – but I knew that was impossible. Rather than stone and high walls, it was an unruly forest. Directly in front of me there was a rocky, shamble-covered hill that led down to tall green trees that stretched up over a hundred feet into the air. Their leaves were the dark green of heavy summer, some of the leaves curling at the edges from the heat and lack of water.

That was not all there was, though. If I looked to my left, around the curve of the Colosseum, the trees turned from the dark green to shades of red, orange, and yellow. Crisp breezes set those leaves to rustling and I caught the scent of fall on the breeze. When I turned right, the dark green of the summer trees gave way to a bright, lime green of new leaves, and the trees were dotted with huge pink and white blossoms. I supposed the quadrant of the arena that I couldn't see was the representation of winter, the fourth season.

My heart hammered in my chest. The forest stretched as far as the eye could see... how on earth was I supposed to find Ash and the others? And worse... what if they were lying dead in the Colosseum behind me?

I tried to calm myself and _think. _If Ash thought I was still alive, where would he have directed the others to go? Where would he think I would go? And where would he go? I had to figure out which of the four quadrants was my best chance.

Nothing came to mind. I decided to walk around the Colosseum, to see if I could find where they would have exited. I curved to the right, walking towards the spring section. It was treacherous to walk along the loose shambles at the top of the hill on which the Colosseum perched, but I didn't watch my feet – I watched everywhere but. I watched the walls and my surroundings, the forest below and the shambles around me. I was painfully aware of how much I was standing in the open, but I couldn't do this from the ground.

I stopped when I stepped in something that squished around my boot. I felt a retching feeling develop in my throat and I looked down slowly, staring first at the puddle of blood I had stepped in, and then the dead body twenty meters away. I fought the urge to throw up, pressing my fist to my mouth and swallowing hard.

The body was mangled almost beyond recognition. Blood matted its armor, face, and hair. The rocks in front of me were thrown in wild patterns and the blood was heavy there, showing me that the body had obviously fallen. I looked up slowly and saw a rope hanging overhead, that they had obviously been using to climb down the wall. I also saw that it had been cut with a knife about a hundred feet off the ground.

I gagged again, and forced myself to look at the body. Whoever it was had been alive when they hit the ground, and they had dragged themselves a few feet before falling several meters down the rocky terrain. Then, someone had caught up with them and planted a knife in their back.

I stared at the armor, trying to make out the color and determine what district the tribute was from. Their armor wasa dark, golden shade of yellow, which was the armor from District 8. I took a deep, shuddering breath, suddenly feeling less nauseous. I didn't know anyone from District 8.

I looked back at the wall, trying to determine if this was where Ash and the others had left the Colosseum – assuming that they had. The rope overhead was ruddy, though, not sand colored. At least, I hoped the rope was actually a different color and not just soaked in blood. I decided to keep walking.

The fourth quadrant of the arena finally came into view. The buffer between the winter and the spring section was a series of trees that were bare of leaves, and then it gave way to a sparkling winter-filled forest. The snow crept up the stony hill and near the top, the snow had melted leaving behind some mud and wet stones. There were several footprints in the snow going down the hill, and many of them were small – children's footprints. I glanced up and, sure enough, I saw a sandy colored rope draped over the edge of the wall.

I looked down the snowy hill and a few bright red splotches of blood glowed in the afternoon sun. Afternoon? Had I really been down there so long? I suppose the answer was a yes. I staggered down the snow-covered hill, following the scattered footprints and crossing my fingers, hoping that the blood didn't belong to one of mine.

When I reached the bottom of the hill, the temperature felt like it had dropped fifty degrees, from near 80 degrees all the way down to about 30. I shivered slightly and rubbed my face with my gloved hands, hoping that my armor would keep me warm enough.

I wished desperately that something from the Cornucopia had fallen into the pit with me, so that I would have something – anything – with me. My mouth was dry and my lips were beginning to crack, and my stomach rumbled slightly. I felt horribly naked, without a single weapon to hold onto.

I walked through the winter wonderland until I couldn't see the Colosseum through the trees behind me, and then I stopped. I picked up a handful of snow and put it in my mouth, letting it melt and run in cold rivulets down the back of my throat. I knew it wasn't smart to do that, and that it would steal some of my body warmth, but I was thirsty... and I wasn't _that _cold.

I continued walking. The snow crunched under my boots no matter how quietly I tried to walk. The trail ahead of me that had been carved by my friends (or at least, I hoped) was so blatantly obvious that I worried someone else would get to them before I could. I pushed the thought from my mind; no one would have PICKED the winter quadrant. That's probably why my friends went for it. Everyone would have gone for the fall or the spring quadrant, where it was the ideal temperature and they would have plenty of leaf-cover.

My feet began to feel heavy, and the armor clanked with every step I took. The steps began to blend together, and for a while there were only a few things: the footprints in the snow in front of me, the crunch of the snow underfoot, and the cool air whipping around my ears. I let my other senses fade away, focusing only on sound. If I heard something out of the normal, it would be my first indication of anything else.

That's how it came to pass that I walked for hours without even really noticing how much time had passed. It was only when I realized the snow in front of me was cast in shades of pink and orange that I looked up and saw the sunset.

It was a truly magnificent sunset, which was all the more insulting – that we should see this beautiful thing while we were trapped, fighting our friends to the death. It mangled the sunset; it made it seem darker. It made the reds seem like they were bloody; the oranges reminded me of the rust-colored rope; the pink reminded me of my mother's face when she cried. This beautiful sight suddenly made me sick, as though it was a hideous mutilation of the sunsets I used to see at home. I remembered the sunsets that cast the primrose bushes in beautiful colors, and danced on the water, and all the times Dad painted them on canvas and on cake.

He always loved the colors.

I grimaced and fixed my eyes on my shoes. One foot after the other; just ignore the colors. I kept walking until the snow in front of me finally turned a rich blue-purple in the twilight, and I released tension in my shoulders that I didn't know I had been keeping. The blue-purple continued to darken, but the moon soon rose and illuminated the forest in ghostly shades of blue and silver.

A voice boomed overhead and my head snapped upright. I stared up at the sky, and a face flickered into view. It was the face of Nero, the announcer. Kit sat in a chair off to his side, and I just saw the slightest glimpse of her hair.

"Hello, tributes and citizens of Panem!" His voice seemed to come from every direction, making me look for speakers hidden in the trees. "I hope you have all enjoyed the first few hours of the first Graveyard Games!"

I snorted, glowering up at his face. I hadn't really hated him before, but now I really, _really _hated him.

"It is time to see why this game is called the Graveyard Games, and review the deaths so far today," Nero continued. "There have been several, I must say. Tributes, please look around you."

I looked away from his face, and was surprised to see that the scenery around me had changed. The trees were still all in the same places, and there was still snow. Nothing was missing, but something had been added.

My stomach sank into my feet as I stared around me, at the cold stony graves that had risen from the ground. I swallowed hard, counting the headstones.

There were 51.

Some were blank, some were not.

I closed my eyes briefly, wondering if I had the strength to read the names on the headstones and potentially see Ash's name on one of them – or Ty's, for that matter.

The fact that there were 51 headstones was a brutal reminder that we would have 51 headstones filled before one of us left the arena. It was a reminder that this was a graveyard; that soon the blood of 51 kids – KIDS – would water these trees. It was the reminder that no matter how many people might be moving and breathing in this arena, 51 of them were already as good as dead.

I took a deep breath, and walked to the nearest headstone.


	24. Chapter 24

The light was dim, which made it hard for me to see the gravestones. I wasn't sure if I even wanted to know, but I knew I had to. I took a deep breath and crouched before the head-stone.

_District 8_

_Jeanine_

_Died 8:06 Day 1_

_Killed By: Maris, District 4._

Some of the tension in my stomach eased. The gravestones were obviously ordered by when people had died, and at least the first person to die hadn't been one of my allies. Although Jeanine of District 8 obviously hadn't lasted too terribly long, considering the games had only started a minute before she died...

I moved on to the next gravestone, crouching before it.

_District 6_

_Henderson_

_Died: 8:08 Day 1_

_Killed By: Blaise, District 1._

I grimaced. Two dead within the first three minutes of the Games, and both killed by a Career. This wasn't looking too good.

_District 11_

I stopped reading the gravestone, my heart in my throat. I closed my eyes and prayed that the name I was going to see below _District 11 _wasn't Thray's. Thray was so sweet, I couldn't handle the idea of him lying in a pool of his own blood. I opened my eyes and forced myself to read the rest of the stone.

_District 11_

_Jeremiah_

_Died: 8:08 Day 1_

_Killed By: Onyx, District 1._

Relief flooded me and I let myself smile. Of course, that didn't mean Thray was alive... But it did mean that he wasn't one of the first three to die. I noticed that Onyx and Blaise, both from District 1, had killed someone at the same time. It made me wonder if they had teamed up, and if they had... well, it proved they were very deadly. I moved on to the next gravestone.

_District 3_

_Belladona_

_Died: 8:09 Day 1_

_Killed By: Tanner, District 5._

I didn't know either of the names, but at least Belladona wasn't one of my friends and Tanner wasn't a career.

_District 13_

I paused. I knew all four of the kids from District 13. I grimaced and closed my eyes, taking in a deep breath. I wondered who would kill such a young child before it became necessary, and I felt sick. At least I didn't know the four children well; it was better than seeing _District 12 _on the gravestone.

_District 13_

_Fillie_

_Died 8:12 Day 1_

_Killed By: Maroon, District 2._

I sighed. Fillie had been such a sweet little boy. I stared at Maroon's name, and remembered that day in the training grounds. I remembered her words. _You've made your first and worst enemy. _I wondered if that was why she had killed Fillie; because she knew Fillie was one of my allies. The thought made me grimace. I wondered why my allies had still been in the arena seven minutes after the start of the games; I had been hoping they would have been over the wall and gone. Maybe Fillie had been too slow... Or maybe Maroon took her time killing him. I shook the thoughts from my head and moved on to the next stones.

_District 9_

_Alice_

_Died 8:13 Day 1_

_Killed By: Grace, District 10_

Grace of District 10. Apparently, that was the first name of one of the Benson twins. I shook my head briefly and moved quickly through the remaining stones. Judging by the time stamps on the stones, the blood-bath had ended at 8:20, fifteen minutes after the games had started. Nine people died in the blood-bath, which included the girl from District 3 (Belladona), a boy from District 5 named Peter, Henderson from District 6, Jeanine from District 8, Alice and Nathan from District 9, Jeremiah from District 11, and Fillie from District 13.

There were four more gravestones from later in the day, after everyone had scattered and left. There was a boy from District 8 on the gravestones, who was killed by Maris. The time that he died was 16:35. My stomach churned as I remembered the mangled body I had seen while walking around the Colosseum, and I wondered when I had been walking around the Colosseum... Had he still been alive when I walked by? I pushed the thought away and looked at the other three gravestones. They were all names I didn't recognize; one of the boys from 7 and one of the boys from 10, and then a girl from 6. I stared at the gravestone for the boy from District 7 for the longest time.

It wasn't because of the kid who died, though.

It was because of the kid who killed him.

_Ty, District 2. _

I wondered why Ty had had to kill him. I wondered what the story was. I wondered if he had been protecting himself, or if he had been protecting Ash or Dianna or someone else. I wondered what would have happened if I had been there, like I was supposed to be.

I got to my feet and brushed the snow off the knees of my armor. I didn't feel like walking too far, or walking much at all. I felt tired, and somewhat overwhelmed, so I just walked until I could no longer see the graveyard and then I climbed a tree. I found a spot where the tree forked into three separate branches and tucked myself into the gap, using one of the branches as a backrest and putting my legs between the remaining two.

I thought I would never get to sleep that night, but it only took my a few moments to fall into a dreamless sleep.


	25. Chapter 25

**Please remember to review! It's super important to me. :) I love you guys. **

_Plop. Plop. PluuuuuuuuunNNNNNNNNNK. _

I woke with a jolt as something cold and wet fell on my face. I grimaced and brushed the half-melted snow out of my eyes, glancing up at the branches above me. The snow was melting fast, dropping off the trees and hitting the ground with a sound like rain. The sun filtered through the rapidly baring branches, and I wondered how long I had been asleep.

I looked down at the ground and saw that the snow on the ground was turning into a muddy slush, and the footprints from the night before were almost impossible to see. I cursed loudly and jumped down from the tree, grimacing at the impact. I looked at the faint trail and started jogging along it, desperate to get as much use out of it as I could before it was gone entirely. I got maybe a half a mile before the trail veered off to the left, and into the spring section of the arena. The spring section was far closer to me than I remembered, but I didn't pay any attention to it. I was far more distracted by the complete lack of tracks for me to follow.

I groaned internally. How was I ever going to find them and catch up?

I walked a few hundred yards into the spring section, looking for any hint of where they might have gone, but there wasn't one. I closed my eyes and listened; aside from the chirping of birds, the singing of mockingjays, and a few noises I couldn't identify, there was nothing.

Okay, calm down, think. Where would Ash have gone? Why would they have come over here, what would they have wanted?

I looked over my shoulder at the rapidly melting snow in the distance.

Well, they wanted to get somewhere where people couldn't track them. And then they would have tried to lose any pursuers, presumably by going at a weird angle or by zigzagging. And, most importantly, they would need water.

The thought of water made my throat close up. I was so, so thirsty; the only water I had had in twenty-four hours was a mouthful of snow. I closed my eyes again and listened, searching for the sound of water, but I didn't hear any. I groaned, and looked around again. The ground sloped slightly downwards, and I knew that if there was any water around here it would be at the bottom of the hill in a valley of sorts.

I walked downhill. Sometimes it was so flat I wondered if I was still going downhill, other times it was so steep that I had to use my hands to navigate the terrain. The sickly-sweet smell of honey blossoms filled the air and flower petals drifted through the warm breeze. The sun was golden and split bright-green leaves, casting the ground in a million colors from bronze to sea-green, almost as though I was walking on stained glass. It was, for all intents and purposes, the embodiment of spring.

I finally heard the clear sound of a creek and followed it until I saw a tiny little rivulet flowing between the stones. It was no more than three inches wide and one inch deep, but I knew it must flow to something bigger.

I knelt and cupped my hands, getting as much water into them as I could manage, and swallowed it in a single gulp. I repeated the process until my throat no longer screamed for water, and I sat back on my heels.

I looked at the soft dirt around the tiny trickle of water and noticed a few scattered footprints. Some of them were small enough that they could belong to my friends. I stood up, crossed my fingers, and walked downstream. A small stream wound in to my right, combining with the other stream and creating something closer to a foot wide. I figured the other stream was created by the melting snow in the winter sector.

I kept following that stream and more and more little rivulets met it until it was several feet wide, and then several meters wide. The area grew rockier and rockier until huge boulders lined the river, with huge dark gashes between them.

I don't know why, but I stopped walking. Something hard and cold rested in the pit of my stomach, and the hair on the back of my neck bristled. Something hard and cold brushed against the nape of my neck and my heart fluttered.

"Stay where you are," a familiar voice said from behind me. I stiffened, and tried to even my breathing. "Turn around – very slowly."

I put my hands out to my sides and turned as slowly as I could, turning to look behind me. The first thing I saw was a very sharp steel arrow-head, attached to a long silver rod and knocked in a elegan recurve bow. The bow was held by...

"Ty!" I breathed out, relieved. He stared at me and quickly released the tension in the bow, dropping it so that the arrow pointed to the dirt. The bow clattered to the ground and he embraced me, his arms wrapping around me and holding me close.

"Rosa," he breathed into my hair. "I didn't think we'd see you again. We thought you were dead, but we didn't see your name last night..."

"I worried the same about you," I said, pulling back and looking up into his eyes. "Is everyone alright? Are they together?"

"Yes, now," he said, but then his smile faltered. "Well, except for one..."

"Fillie," I said quietly. "I saw his name on the stones. What happened?"

"He was the last child up. I was following them to bring up the rear, and I got distracted fighting one of the District 7 boys. While I was distracted, the other boy from District 7 followed them up the rope and cut Fillie down. I shot the lad on the rope and he fell to the ground. I thought he was dead, but the gravestones say he didn't die for hours..." A pained expression flashed across Ty's face, and for a moment I worried he would be sick. He quickly covered his expression with a poker face.

Images filled my mind. I pictured the boy on the ground, an arrow through his stomach, gurgling in his own blood... Just enough blood in his windpipe to make him feel like he's drowning, but not enough to actually drown him. The stabbing pain of his shredded internal organs quivering around the shaft of the arrow, the strength leaching out of his body. He couldn't move, he didn't have the strength to end his own life, all he could do was lay there staring at the sky.

"Where are the others?" I asked, trying to get away from the subject of the boy's slow and painful death.

"There's a cave a few hundred yards downstream," Ty said. "I went out scouting and collecting water and food." He shrugged a sack off his shoulder and showed me a half-dozen full water bottles and fruits. He also had a dead rabbit flung over his shoulder, which he showed me.

"I'm guessing you guys got plenty of stuff from the cornucopia then?" I asked, looking up at him.

"Yeah, we got two bows, throwing knives, three swords, basic supplies, and stuff to lay traps," Ty said, ticking off the items they had managed to get.

"Excellent. Do we have enough weapons to keep everyone armed?" I asked. Ty shook his head.

"Most of the little ones don't have weapons. Thomas has both a sword and a bow because he's second -best with a bow, but he doesn't really know how to use it well... It's a good thing you're here." He smiled wryly. "So you can have that bow and he'll just use the sword."

"Sounds like a plan," I said with a grin. "Let's go see the others." Ty nodded and picked up his bow, then slipped around me and continued downstream. After a couple hundred meters he walked directly into the middle of the river and cut around a stone jutting out of the water, then disappeared. I followed him tentatively and around the stone I saw a tiny crack in the rock no more than a foot wide, and it was only about three feet deep. It was the only thing I saw, so I slipped into the crack.

The crack curved off to the right and opened into a tunnel that you couldn't see from the outside. It twisted a little bit and then opened into a huge cavern with a sandy floor. I stared around the cavern, awe-struck. Cracks in the top let sunlight filter in and it let smoke from various camp-fires float out. The cracks separated the columns of smoke and dispersed them, so they would hardly be noticeable from the surface.

"How did you guys find this place?" I asked, in awe.

"Rosa!" Ash's voice filled my ears and he barreled into my stomach. I staggered a foot or two trying to catch my balance and wrapped my arms around him, holding him close. "I thought you were dead."

"It takes more than some rocks to kill me," I said, and smiled down at him. "Besides, I haven't gotten you to the finish line yet, have I?"

"It's good to see you," Dianna said with a gentle smile, and she clasped my hand.

"We found it yesterday," Thomas chipped in, and tossed me the bow he had slung over his shoulder. "Yesterday morning this was the fall section, but by that evening it was the winter section. It was snowing hard and the river was frozen, and some of the kids weren't doing too well. We were worried they would die of frost-bite. So we tucked Kiki and Hawk into this crevice to get them out of the snow, and we were looking for another one to hide Ash and the girls in, but then Kiki called out to tell us that there was a tunnel. So we investigated and... well, here we are."

"The seasons are changing?" I asked, frowning.

"Yeah. Within a couple hours, it'll be summer here," Ty said, collecting a few stray arrows and tucking them into a quiver to hand to me.

"Oh well, no harm's ever been done by summer's hand," Thray said. "Let's roast that rabbit, shall we?" Ty tossed Dianna the rabbit, who then set about skinning it and cleaning it. Ty then passed around some of the things he had in his bag; wild strawberries and a few not-quite-ripe apples, with wild blueberries and blackberries thrown into the mix.

Everyone ate hungrily, and the only sound was our chewing and the river.

"_Hey! I smell something," _a voice said. I looked around to find the speaker, but no one had spoken. A cold chill crept down my spine and I looked up. Through the cracks above, I could see something moving.

"_Yeah! Me too. Smoke... and cooking meat? Where's it coming from?" _another voice said, belonging to a girl. I recognized the voice... Maroon.

I swallowed hard.

The careers were right outside.

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	26. Chapter 26

My heart pounded in my throat, and the blood rushing through my ears was so loud I feared the Careers would hear it. Everyone in the cavern was completely silent, waiting to see what would happen. The shuffle of footsteps overhead was muffled by the stone, so I couldn't tell how many of them there were. Just two? Or three? Or were all of them up there, waiting to cut us into little bits?

Ty silently got to his feet, keeping his eyes fixed on the ceiling.

"_It's coming from down there_," the first voice said, and I heard them kneel down on the rocks overhead. One of the cracks darkened as something covered it; a face, I assumed. "_It's too dark, I can't see anything down there. How do we get there?"_

I looked at Ty, and saw him looking back at me. I stared at him, thinking hard and hoping he was thinking along the same lines. We had to get out before they found the way in; we couldn't let ourselves get cornered in here. And as long as they didn't know the way in, it was still safe here. So there was only one option: the older kids would go outside and fight the careers, so the younger ones stayed safe and out of our way.

Ty's eyes flickered between mine, and he gestured slightly towards the opening. Clearly he had been thinking what I had, and Dianna got to her feet. The three of us grabbed weapons as quietly as we could manage and headed towards the entrance to the cavern. The sounds of the careers rustling overhead kept me on edge, and the adrenaline made my hands tremble. Thomas, Thray, and Ashe moved to stand up as well, but I motioned for Ashe to sit back down. The five older kids should be able to handle it.

I clinched my bow tightly and bit my lip, my knuckles turning white around the grip. I adjusted my quiver so that I could reach it easily, and tested the draw on the bow with my right pointer and middle fingers. The string was thin and sharp and the draw weight was higher than most I had shot with, so it was going to cut my fingers open after a round or two of shooting – hopefully I would be able to make a tab to protect my fingers later. If there was a later...

I shook my head to erase the thoughts and followed Ty to the entrance of the cave. His red armour glittered in the light, and I hoped it wouldn't give away our positions. Thomas and Thray followed me, with Dianna bringing up the rear. There was a soft splash as Ty set foot in the river, and I followed him. Ice cold water wrapped itself around my ankles and I sucked in a deep breath, trying not to shiver.

I looked up over the rocks to where the Careers should be standing, but there was no one there. I stepped a little further into the river to allow the others to come out from behind me. We stood silently in the river, listening for anything that would give us a hint of where the Careers were waiting.

Something whistled by my ear, and Thray let out a cry and staggered in the water. I spun towards him and saw the bristled end of an arrow wedged between the chinks of his armour. Blood was oozing down his arm and made his dark brown armor glisten red. He tried to move his arm and couldn't.

"Where did it come from?!" Thomas yelled, his eyes searching for the shooter.

"Thray, get inside now!" I yelled, pushing him back towards the cave. "Everyone, get close! Don't let them pick us off one by one!"

Laughter rumbled from the trees, and my stomach twisted. There were lots of voices, and it made me worry that we were far outnumbered.

"Katniss's daughter, taking charge!" Maroon's voice filtered through the branches, and something moved. I loaded an arrow and shot before I had time to take another breath, and the arrow clanked loud against metal. Someone grunted, but I knew I had hit armor rather than flesh.

"I liked this armor," Maris grumbled.

"Suck it up, it saved your life, dumbass," a boy's voice said. "Are we gonna spend our whole time standing in the trees, or are we gonna fight proper?"

"Fine, but if you get shot, I'm not doing crap for you," Maroon said.

"She isn't that good, don't be ridiculous," a fourth voice said. "She isn't her mother."

I tensed and knocked another arrow. Figures emerged from the trees on top of the rocks, and I took a step back in surprise. There were seven Careers – we didn't stand a chance. I drew my bow and shot, an arrow sailing into the nearest figure. It went about ten centimeters higher than I was aiming for; I hadn't been prepared for this bow. It bounced off the armor, leaving a dent.

I shot again, this time making it between the chinks of their armor, and they fell to the ground without a sound.

"She's not her mother, huh?" Maroon asked, kicking the immobile body. I didn't know who I had just killed, but the remaining six were Maroon, Maris, Blaise, Otaco, Thalia, and the boy from District Eight.

I knocked another arrow and pulled back, aiming at Maroon's face. "Where are the others?" I asked. The District Four careers were missing, along with a few others.

"Busy," she responded, seemingly unperturbed by the arrow aimed on her face. "Watching camp. Not getting killed, like you are." I released my arrow just as she dropped flat against the rock, causing my arrow to whistle overhead. She rolled across the rock until she dropped into the river directly in front of me, and before I had time to knock another arrow she had knocked me on my back in the water.

The other Careers followed Maroon into the river, and Dianna immediately got back to back with Ty. Four careers circled around them, and the last Career stalked towards Thomas. That is all I got to see of their fight before I had to focus on Maroon alone. Maroon held a knife tightly in her hand and lunged straight for me. I rolled to the right, and after she splashed into the water I rolled back, trying to get on top of her. She was strong and fast, though, and sent me flying through the air before I had the chance.

I staggered to my feet and fought to regain my balance – if I wasn't on my feet, I would be dead before I had a chance to lay a scratch on her. I didn't have any weapons aside from my bow and arrows, and my bow had been knocked from my hand when Maroon tackled me. I drew an arrow from the quiver and clinched it in my fist, hoping that I could use the arrowhead as my weapon. If I had the chance to stab her with it, it should work fine.

She circled me slowly, her eyes flickering between the arrow and my eyes. She lunged towards me and I brought my arrow towards her face, but she twisted to the side at the last second so it skimmed by her ear instead. I pushed her away, hoping to get her off balance, but she didn't fall.

I spun sideways. I couldn't use the arrow as my weapon by turning that way, so Maroon didn't expect it; I smashed my fist into the side of her face, sending her stumbling away. I heard a quiet scream and watched Dianna fall to her knees, a knife sticking out of her stomach.

"No!" I yelled, spinning back to face her. Dianna's eyes widened and fixed over my shoulder. I spun just in time to see Maroon going towards me again, and I twisted out of the way. I stuck my foot out in her path and she fell into the water, spluttering. When I turned back to Dianna, she was laying in the shallow waters of the river with her eyes closed. Her blood stained the river, and she didn't move. Another body lay beside hers; the boy from District 8. She must have killed him before they took her down.

I looked around while Maroon was trying to get back to her feet, evaluating the situation. Thomas had already taken care of the Otaco and was standing off to the side, unsure of what to do.

"Thomas, guard the entrance!" I yelled. Thomas nodded and drew back towards the entrance. Maroon stumbled again, and I took advantage of the time gap to tackle her again. She wrapped her arms around my waist and turned, using my momentum to push me to the ground. Maroon pinned my hands down and I squirmed violently. Maroon looked up to the remaining four Careers.

"Blaise," she said, "Hold the big guy down. Maris, Thalia, come grab Rosa here. Let's teach the Mockingjay's daughter a lesson... No fun in killing her slowly, is there?"

Blaise, in a surprisingly quick motion, spun around behind Ty and put him in a death grip. Maris and Thalia – both of whom were thinner and probably a little weaker than I am, but they were fast and together they would be able to hold me down – made their way over to where Maroon had me pinned down in the river.

The water rushed around my head, and I was instantly grateful that the river was only a few inches deep here, otherwise I would be drowned and dead by now. The rocks on the riverbed scratched against my armor with teeth-grating noises, and my struggling was only making more grating noises.

Maroon hauled me to my feet and Maris and Thalia each grabbed one of my arms. I shot out my foot to kick Thalia, but my angle was awkward and there was no strength behind the kick. Thalia just laughed at me, and tightened her grip.

"Rosa!" Ty yelled, trying to get free of Blaise, but Blaise was too big and strong – he didn't even flinch.

Maroon dried off one of her daggers and dragged the tip along the small exposed part of my collarbone. She dragged the tip up across my cheek and dug it in just enough to draw a thin line of hot blood that trickled down my face.

"Maybe we should cut things off," Maroon said, musing. She brought her knife over to my ear and pricked my earlobe. I yanked my face away and she laughed.

"Rosa!" a little voice yelled, and Maroon yelped. She spun away from me and I saw a knife sticking about two inches into her shoulder. Thalia and Maris loosened their grips and I tugged free, just in time to see Maroon slice open Chryssie's throat.

The kids had come out of the cave to help. Chryssie had stabbed Maroon in the back to save me.

Part of me wanted to run to Chryssie but the other part of me knew she was already dead, so I used the surprise to hit the knife in Maroon's back and drive it further into her shoulder. She cried out and turned towards me, but then hesitated and turned back towards the rest of the kids as though suddenly realizing she was outnumbered. She backed away down the river and Thalia and Maris followed her. Blaise released Ty and backed away as well. They scrambled out of the river up onto the rocks.

"This isn't over," Maroon yelled, holding her injured arm. Then the Careers disappeared into the trees.


	27. Chapter 27

I knelt down and was sick on the rocks. I wiped my mouth, my hands shaking, and looked at the wreckage of the river. It seemed like blood and bodies were everywhere; the salty, metallic scent of blood hung in the air, making me gag again.

"Dianna," Ty breathed, running over to where Dianna was lying face-up in the river. Thray followed him, holding his injured arm limply to his side. Part of me wanted to follow them, but I was too distracted by Chryssie's limp body laying in the river between me and them. Otaco's crumpled body and the dead body of the boy from District 8 were staining the river red, and there was so much blood. I couldn't believe so much blood could come from such small bodies.

I knelt slowly, looking at Chryssie. It felt like a dream, but I knew it was all too real. She was so small and pale, her eyes wide open and staring up at the sky. Her eyes were glassy and reflected the sky like mirrors, and tiny spots of blood stood out high on her cheeks. Her mouth was agape as though she had been planning on saying something, but she was too still. No breath left her body; the only movement was her hair floating in the current of the stream.

I reached out a trembling hand and pulled her eyelids closed. If it wasn't for the gash across her throat, she might have been sleeping.

I felt like I was going to be sick again, but there was nothing left to throw up. I realized, numbly, that this was the first time I had really seen someone die. Even though I knew what was going to happen in this arena, part of me hadn't been prepared for it. Even seeing the dead body earlier hadn't prepared me for watching a child be murdered. And she was murdered trying to protect _me._

"Is she still alive?" Ash asked in a very small voice. I looked up and saw him staring down at Chryssie's torn and bloodied throat.

"No," I answered. My voice felt foreign and raw. Ash's face crumpled.

"What about Dianna?" he asked, glancing over at where the others were sitting. I looked over at Ty, but I could tell by the tired and defeated look on his face that he couldn't find a pulse.

"No," I whispered. Ash sat down heavily in the water next to me, staring at the bodies.

"I think we should take Dianna and Chryssie away," Hawk said, his lips trembling. "They're going to want to take the bodies away, and I'm okay with them taking the Careers', but I'm not ready for them to take Chryssie. Or Dianna."

"Okay," I agreed.

"I'll carry her," Thomas offered, gesturing to Chryssie's body, but I shook my head.

"I'll do it." I swallowed hard. "She died trying to protect me, after all." I slid my arms gently under Chryssie's body and got to my feet. She seemed so fragile under her armor, and I held tightly to her body, ignoring the blood dripping from her neck down my arm and onto the armor of my leg. I carried her gingerly, stepping over the bodies of the boy from district 8 and Otaco, walking over to where Ty was sitting.

Ty was sitting with a hopeless look on his face, staring at Dianna's face. She was almost as pale as Chryssie, and her eyes were closed. Her hands were folded around the knife sticking out of the left side of her abdomen, stained up to the wrists in her own blood. The blood-flow had stopped now, and her chest wasn't rising. Ty looked up at me and at Chryssie's limp body. I expected to see his eyes wet with tears, but they were empty and blank, as though he was still processing what had just happened. His hands were covered in a mix of his and Dianna's blood, and streaks of slowly drying blood blended in with the shining sienna of his armor.

"We're gonna carry them away and say our goodbyes," I said, and he nodded. He shifted his arms under Dianna and lifted her into his arms, her head lolling against his shoulder gently. He stood as though she weighed no more than a pillow. I looked over at the other kids. "Get the rest of the stuff from the cave."

"Is there anywhere particular you want to go, Hawk?" I asked, looking over my shoulder. He looked at me without answering. "Lead the way."

Hawk scrambled out of the river and I followed him up the bank, struggling to get up the muddy hill without using my hands. Ty followed me, and behind him was Thomas, Thray, Wind, Ash and Kiki. We followed Hawk through the woods on a numb, aimless walk through the trees. The world around us seemed unnaturally cheery for the circumstances; it was still spring in this sector, which meant birds were chirping loudly, flowers were blooming, and everything was painfully green. Summer was coming, and the heat was beginning to take over. The ground was still wet with the melted snow, squishing underfoot as we walked on in silence.

I wasn't sure where we were going. For that matter, I don't think Hawk knew, either. Eventually, the trees opened up into a grassy clearing covered in flowers. We all stopped by some unspoken agreement, and I lay Chryssie down in the bed of flowers. Ty followed suit, laying Dianna down beside her, and then I stood back. The blood that covered my body was just starting to dry, making my skin sticky, but I ignored it. They seemed so young and peaceful in the flowers; if it wasn't for the blood, they could be sleeping.

"Can we say something for them?" Ash asked, looking over at me with a query in his eyes.

"Sure," I said. I had no idea what we would say. It's not like we knew them that well, right?

"I've known Chryssie for as long as I could remember," Hawk started, making me eat my words. "We grew up together. For a long time, it was just Chryssie, Fillie, Wind and I. There were kids younger than us, but we spent so much time together. Now, I've lost two of you... I don't know what I'm going to do without you, Chryssie." Wind patted him on the arm gently, and he turned to embrace her. They stood in silence for a moment. I waited for Wind to say something, but all she said was,

"Ditto."

Thomas took a deep breath. "I didn't know either of them for long," he started. "But they seemed like they were good people. Just in the wrong place, I suppose. In another life, we couldn't been great friends... Maybe even more." He looked at Dianna's still face with regret in his eyes.

"When I met Chryssie, she was like a big sister," Kiki said, smiling at the memory. "I felt safe with her. And Chryssie was like a fierce protector. She'd protect all of us, I think, and that's what she died doing."

The rest of us stayed in silence, looking at the bodies in silence. I knew it was irrational to feel this way about them, but I couldn't help it. Thray moaned slightly and I looked over at him. He was pale and sweat was beading on his forehead. The blood dripping down his arm was unnaturally dark, and Thomas reached out to keep him from falling over.

"Sorry, just a little light headed," Thray mumbled apologetically.

"Thomas, help him get the armor off that arm so we can look at his wound," I said, striding over to where Thray was standing. "Help him sit down." Thomas lowered Thray to the ground and Thray groaned slightly, easing his weight off his feet. Thomas peeled away the armor, revealing where the arrow went in and out of his arm. The flesh was puckered and angry, but it was not hot with infection.

"It's not going to kill me, right?" Thray asked, tone half-joking.

"It shouldn't," I breathed, poking at the wound gently. He hissed with pain, clenching his fist. "Superficial, mostly. I don't think you hit any major blood vessels, but it looks like you might've hit a nerve cluster. As long as infection doesn't set in, you'll probably be okay. Let's get this treated, shall we? This'll hurt..." I snapped off the fletching of the arrow, and then pulled the arrow out the other side of his arm. He ground his teeth, struggling not to cry out. Blood dribbled out of the hole in his arm and I clapped my hand on it.

"Does anyone have bandages in their supply kits?" I asked, looking around. Ty nodded wordlessly and shuffled through a bag of stuff, then offered me a roll of white bandage. I ripped off pieces and stuffed them into the wound to stop the bloodflow, then coiled it around his arm to hold the bandages in place. With another strip of bandage I fashioned an awkward sling for him to use. "I'm afraid I'm not the best nurse," I apologized, gesturing to the bandage. "But it should work." Thray nodded, the color leeched from his face through the combination of blood loss and pain.

We sat in silence for an hour, maybe more, before Thomas stood up.

"I think it's time we let them take the bodies," Thomas said quietly. "Let them go home." He walked out of the clearing, and one by one the others followed until Ty and I were the only ones left in the clearing. I stood shakily and Ty followed suit. When I looked up from the bodies, he was watching me with fixation. Suddenly, he grabbed me by the wrists and pulled me into a tight, reassuring embrace.

"I'm so glad it wasn't you," Ty breathed in my ear. "I couldn't stand it if it was you." He pulled back and kissed me passionately. I kissed him back before realizing what I was doing, but it took all of my will power to pull away from his lips. He was gentle yet insistent, he tasted of raspberries, and he was full of emotion. When I pulled back, I wasn't sure what to do. I searched his eyes for an answer, but there was none.

"I'm glad you're okay," I answered finally. He laced his fingers in between mine. "Ty, you know we can't do this. It'll only make our eventual separation even harder."

"If we're only going to live for another week, it might as well be a good week," he breathed, kissing me again. I wanted to disagree, but I couldn't.

"Let's get back to the others," I said, breaking away again. He smiled at me, and I glanced at Dianna and Chryssie one more time. Ty and I turned, hands still intertwined, and left the clearing.

I only wish I had known then that Dianna was still alive.

It would have saved us a lot of pain later on.


End file.
